Anonymity
by writerspassion18
Summary: "Our love story is off the beaten path of normal."
1. Grey

Tonight Draco was the walking depiction of debonair. He wore expensive dress robes and a decently-sized, non-obnoxious top hat. He had rather gone without the hat, but aside from the fact that he was playing by the rules, his platinum blond hair was a dead giveaway as to who he was and that was the _last_ thing that he wanted. The black mask he slipped over his eyes would do the rest of the work, and Draco smiled at his reflection once he was through.

For the first time in almost three years he would be able to walk about without scrutinizing stares. He could get away from the whispers. He could feel… _normal_. He would relish in tonight and make the most of it because by this time tomorrow he would be back to feeling as alone on the inside as he was on the out.

With a sigh, Draco left his dorm and strolled through the empty common room until he made it through the portrait. Even though Slytherin was quite a ways from the Great Hall, music from the masquerade-themed ball could be heard clear as day. A spell, most assuredly, and he smiled even more at the frivolity that lived in the air. The corridors radiated with a festive feel as its ceilings had been bewitched like the Great Hall's. It reflected a cloudy night, but from those clouds came a light cascade of snow that slowly trickled to the ground and landing on Draco's shoulders. The ground itself was clean of any snow, but the ambience wasn't diminished by it.

Draco continued along, shaking his head every now and again to rid himself of the memories that the halls were forcing him to remember. _Not tonight,_ he feverishly thought to himself. Tomorrow he could remember all the terrible things he'd done within and to the school. Tomorrow he could dwell on the fact that despite knowing the ostracism he would incur from returning to Hogwarts to finish out his seventh year at age twenty-one, that he came anyway. Tomorrow he would brood over the fact that there was still five more months left to endure the hell he'd willingly walked into.

"Smile, mate!"

Draco hadn't even realized he'd been frowning. The unfamiliar voice that had called out to him belonged to another seventh year he couldn't make out due to his own mask. The boy had clapped a hand on his back while passing and then continued on his way into the Great Hall with his date. Despite the temporary distraction from his thoughts, they were back again, and so was the deepening of his frown. A deep breath entered and left his lungs as he plucked up the courage to follow his classmate's lead and enter the transformed Great Hall. His smile returned once he had, and he suddenly felt transported back to the Yule Ball.

Students were laughing joyously. Others were getting punch. Couples were dancing to a disembodied orchestra. Draco observed it all. He cautiously made his way further into the Great Hall, afraid as though someone would recognize him and shoo him out of the ball that was designed to bring students closer. Houses, more specifically. Although the war had been a little over three years prior, this was the first year that Hogwarts was able to reopen its doors. Even with magic it had still taken the better part of a year and a half to get the school up and running again –to rid of the debris, to rebuild, to replace staff who had died. Students who had been unable to complete their seventh year –either by not voluntarily returning to a school run by Deatheaters, or unable to return because of a destroyed castle –had been offered to come back and do just that. Other students who had gone to Beauxbatons or Durmstrang for the time being gleefully returned to their precious Hogwarts. And then of course there was the new group of first years. With the war very fresh in everyone's minds, there was a true sense of camaraderie among everyone _except_ with Slytherin House. The other three Houses got along famously well, but when it came down to the slippery House, everyone grew cold and distant. That was the reason behind the masquerade ball. It was ingenious, really. To have every student wear a mask, concealing who they really were, there were no Houses here. There were no sides to take here. There were just people. Students. Students having a good time and Draco standing among them.

Draco smiled once again, more to himself than for anyone's benefit, but it had somehow gathered the attention of a young woman standing near a buffet table full of sweets. He thought of her as a woman, and not a girl, because of the way she carried herself. She was enjoying the ball, yes, but it wasn't in a giddy, childlike way. She held a certain type of grace and poise that could come from nothing but experience and Draco concluded that she had to have been like him –someone who had come to finish out their seventh year because the war had prevented them in the past.

Whoever she was had locked eyes with him and she blushed. Draco's smile had morphed into a small "o" and for the first time in his life he was rendered speechless. She was, in truth, very pretty. Due to the nature of the ball, only her eyes, lips, and general curve of her body could tell him that she was. It was enough. He swallowed once, finding his throat dry. She was a vision in white, reminding him very much of a swan. A white, spaghetti-strapped dress adorned her and, in truth, there was nothing spectacular about it. Regardless it fit her body like a glove until it hit her waist, and flowed gently to the ground and swayed when she moved. Attached to her back were white feathered wings and her mask was feathered as well. The most striking thing about her were her lips. They were pouty and colored a deep pink. He imagined how soft they had to be and nearly tripped over himself, lost in thought, as he started walking over.

* * *

"Oh, Hermione, you look great!" Ginny exclaimed as she stared at her friend. Hermione smiled as she stood at the top of the stairs leading down from the girls' dormitory. She had kicked the redhead out of their shared bedroom because she had been absolutely _never-wracking_ to have in the room with her. Ginny was more in tune with these types of things –dresses, makeup, hair, etc. She had assumed that Hermione wouldn't know heads or tails what to do with herself for the ball tonight, but she wasn't a total loss. Her white gown she'd gotten herself. The wings, the mask, she'd done herself as well. Her hair, less bushy, tamed curls, all piled neatly on top of her head, she'd found the appropriate potions herself. Hermione only had one question and she was currently working up the courage to ask Ginny about it as she hit the final stair.

"The lipstick?" She asked as she rubbed her hands together anxiously. "It's not too dark, is it?"

Ginny smiled as she took her friend's hand in hers. "It's lovely, Hermione. Besides, this is a masquerade ball. This is the time to accentuate every asset as possible. If those lips don't get you a boyfriend tonight, then I don't know what will."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she laughed. "I'm not looking for a boyfriend, Ginny."

"A one night stand then?"

"Ginny!"

Ginny laughed hysterically as she began pulling her along. "Oh, my saint of a friend. Just remember one thing tonight, will you? No one will know who you are. Don't be afraid to do something a little…not you."

 _A little not me…_ Hermione thought to herself as she and Ginny walked arm-in-arm towards the Great Hall. She could only chuckle at that notion because she could never _not_ be who she was. She wasn't spontaneous. She wasn't adventurous. She preferred to play life as safely as possible, especially after coming out of a war with far fewer bodily and emotional scars than she could've ever imagined. Tonight she had intended to be a voyeur; to be a fly on the wall as she watched the rest of Hogwarts mingle and forget about the invisible lines that divided them. Although, she did promise Ginny that if a guy asked her to dance that she wouldn't turn him down. She only hoped that no one would ask. She absolutely _hated_ dancing.

"The Great Hall looks beautiful." Hermione smiled broadly as she took in the massive room. It was bathed in white with the snow that fell from the ceiling and littered the ground. She instantly thought of the Yule Ball from her fourth year and was happy that the odds of a repeat of what happened that year were zero. She had no date (unless she counted Ginny) and neither Ron nor Harry was there or at Hogwarts at all. Sadly, only she out of the three were interested in finishing their final year. Harry had been fast-tracked into the Auror training program and had become one in record time. Ron was helping George run the joke shop and certainly didn't need another year of school to be efficient at it. Hermione on the other hand, although she could have easily gotten a job at the Ministry or anywhere she wished, lived for completeness. She'd worked hard for six years at Hogwarts and would be damned if a war stopped her from taking that last step. That's why she was here, and she was quite proud to be.

"I swear all of Honeydukes is sitting at this table." Ginny said as her eyes poured over the large array of sweets. Hermione had to agree.

"If my parents could see this they'd highly disapprove." Hermione replied, trying to figure out what she'd like first while simultaneously wondering if whatever she ate would disturb her lipstick. She eventually sighed and decided not to eat anything just yet. Instead she let her gaze wander over to the growing crowd of students until her eyes stopped altogether on someone on the other side of the room. He was smiling, dazzlingly she might add, with perfect white teeth that would make any dentist proud. He was striking. There was simply no other way to describe it. The way he carried himself, alone, off to the side and seeming to be surveying the ball-goers, let her know that he had to be someone like her –returning to finish out their year that they'd missed. He wore black robes and a modest top hat. His mask was black as well and Hermione couldn't help but think that his skin shined like porcelain against the black backdrop that was his clothes. She suddenly felt self-conscious in her white. She didn't quite expect for the Great Hall to be drenched in the color and she thought that she must've blended in with the surroundings. Just when she was about to look away, he noticed that she was staring and immediately she blushed. Her cheeks rouged even further when she saw that his jaw had slowly dropped. Was he…? Did he really…? Had he found her…?

"Ginny," Hermione breathed. Her voice was barely above a whisper, her vocal chords betraying her as every syllable seemed to catch in her throat. "That guy over there isn't really…looking at _me_ , is he?"

Ginny's attention snapped to hers quickly and she eagerly began looking in the direction Hermione had been staring. She smiled then. "Oh, yes he is. And he's coming this way too!"

Hermione's heart quickened. Her mysterious voyeur was indeed taking clear, purposeful steps in her direction, and the closer he grew, the more erratic her heart seemed to get. "Ginny," she whispered, but there was no answer. She took a quick look to her right to find that her redheaded companion had abandoned her. Hermione nearly swore. In the end she didn't because she was now confronted with the handsome face who had captured her attention amidst the thick crowd.

Draco took a deep breath. He was nervous. _Beyond_ nervous. It wasn't that he was afraid to talk to her, but rather he was afraid of her reaction to him. He spent his time at Hogwarts alone because no one wanted to have any associations with a Deatheater, reformed or not. Professors avoided group projects in their classes because they knew that no one would want to work with him. To be standing so close to another student, to… _anyone_ , really, made him as happy as he was scared.

"Would you like to dance?"

Hermione's face blanched. "I…um…"

 _She knows who I am._

"I…"

 _She's going to say no._

"The thing is…"

 _This was a mistake._

"I don't dance." Hermione finally blurted out. _There goes my promise to Ginny._ Her masked admirer tilted his head slightly as he stared at her. The corner of his mouth curled upwards in a delicate smile and she felt part of her melt. If the other side turned up as well, all of her would certainly fall into a puddle on the floor.

"May I ask why not?"

Hermione let her eyes fall to the ground as her cheeks reddened. "I don't do crowds."

If she continued to blush further, her lips would match. Draco found it adorable and moved to speak before he lost his voice yet again. "Understandable, but I think we should dance anyway."

Hermione chuckled at his boldness. "Can you make me forget we're in a room full of people?"

"Yes."

Draco stretched out his hand and felt his heart thump at every second that passed by as it hung in the air. Hermione looked down at it and back into his eyes. His steel grey eyes. They were familiar, those eyes; his voice too. But before she could think anymore she slipped her hand in his and felt her stomach flip as his fingers curled over it delicately. Soon she was gently being pulled through the crowd, past various students, and soon in the middle of the Great Hall where music hovered above them. Draco placed his left hand on her waist, the fabric of her dress feeling like silk against his skin. Hermione's left hand made it to his shoulder, and she immediately remarked how expensive his robes felt. They both hesitated when their free hands had to join together, but they did in time, and it happened so slowly. The bottoms of their palms touched first. The body of their hands leaning closer to each other until the base of their fingers touched. Their fingers remained free for a moment, thumb to thumb, index to index, the rest following suit in resting against their respective partners. Draco's fingers gently shifted right until they occupied the space between Hermione's own. He bent his, she bent hers, and they intertwined.

Hermione knew they were dancing, but she was lost. She only knew they were moving because everything around them was a blur. She wanted it to stay that way. She wanted to keep the feeling of his hand on her waist and discretely edging their bodies closer as they danced. She wanted to memorize the way her companion looked –as though this was the happiest time he'd ever had in his life.

And it was. Draco loved the feel of her hand in his. He loved the feel of her other hand on his shoulder. He loved it even more when her hand moved and settled itself on the base of his neck. He thought butterflies were only limited to the stomach, but apparently they could flutter down your spine.

"Thank you." Hermione suddenly said. Draco's hold tightened. He only now realized that there was no space between them and that his left hand, his entire arm really, was fully wrapped around her.

"What for?"

"For making me forget."

"My pleasure,"

It was amazing really, how his saying the word "pleasure" made Hermione feel the definition of the word. The way his lips delectably brushed together as the "P" fled his mouth, the faint visual of his tongue flicking to the roof of his mouth for the "L," a full show of immaculate teeth as the "Eh" sound followed the previous consonants, his lips falling against one another in a pucker for the "-SURE." The innocent lust that filled her within those few seconds was absolutely sinful.

Hermione shyly looked away from him while Draco regarded the vision he was dancing with. Because yes, she could only be his imagination as he'd done nothing good in his life to deserve the pulsating attraction that this woman caused him. She had done nothing but just…exist. The simple tilt of her head was enough to make him want to cart her away somewhere unknown where she could be his and he could be hers. The soft curve of her cheek, her slender neck –untainted with any imperfections –and the blush that rose up from her chest that slowly reached her face.

As the signs of an ending song came to his awareness, Draco realized that he would soon have to let his swan go. When the night was over he'd have to let her go completely. And then what? Lose her to the sea of students and charged with the task of having to find her by the shape of her lips and her enticing curves?

Draco frowned.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, her fingers unintentionally raking against the back of his neck. Draco closed his eyes to the touch, feeling as though he could die a happy man at such innocent affection.

"Would you take a walk with me?" Draco suddenly asked.

Hermione shook off all reservations she had about going off with a stranger as she nodded. Ginny's words about doing something "not her" kept running around in her mind as she once again slipped her hand into that of her anonymous partner. Someone she longed to touch. Someone she longed to press herself against and never let go. Someone, who all she knew about him was the color of his eyes, the shape of his mouth, and the feel of his hands.

They left the Great Hall together, ignoring passersby as they went. Draco kept holding her hand, never once tugging her along because she deserved no such treatment. They walked in silence, the music from the ball flowing over their heads, only to finally fall silent as they excited the castle and made it onto the grounds.

Out here the snow was real. So was the cold. Hermione shivered as the winter air struck them, and Draco released her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders. His wand would have done a much better job than his own body heat, but so long as she didn't complain, he wouldn't. He relished the feeling of her body on his –even if the touch was safeguarded by layers of clothing he wished to let slip from her shoulders and get lost in the white.

They stopped walking once they reached the lake. It was a frozen body of water that beckoned to be walked on, charmed so that no snow covered it. Hermione looked on, consciously aware of the subtle strokes of her companion's thumb as it gently slid up and down her arm.

It transfixed her, but not more than how it had affected the man who was hypnotizing her. Draco was in trouble, he knew, because he was setting himself up to fail. How could he go on tomorrow knowing that one of Hogwarts' students was a dream he never wanted to wake up from?

He wanted to get her name, but he knew that such a question begged reciprocation. How would she react knowing that _he_ , of all people, had garnered her attention? He feared missing out on a happiness that took him months –no, _years_ to find. All wrapped up in the walking definition of purity.

"Would it be too forward of me if I kissed you?"

The question caught Draco off-guard. Hermione felt embarrassed having asked. She felt her practical side scolding her for living without morals. Her other side, the side that was sinking into his arms and loving the feel of him cradling her, his fingers tracing up and down her arm, that side didn't want to waste what was turning out to be an incredible fantasy.

"No," Draco replied as he let her go enough so that she could face him. "It wouldn't be forward at all."

Hermione smiled.

Draco lost his resolve.

He let one of his hands come up and touch her cheek. Caressed was more like it. His hand was soft and comforting, and Hermione leaned into his touch. Draco slowly leaned forward, his lips barely brushing hers before she closed the teasing gap between them.

Their lips touched once, and then parted. With almost unnoticeable tilts of their heads their lips connected yet again, but this time more than a just a graze. From corner to corner their mouths joined, leaving not a space. Their tongues reached out to meet one another with a sweet greeting –sliding past each other in an effort to explore their partner's home.

Their kiss was deep. Their kiss was slow. Draco's hands had maneuvered their way to her waist, holding her tight and holding her close. Hermione's arms were wrapped around his neck, keeping him near as their kiss delved into passion.

If either had kept count, they would've known that minutes had ticked by –minutes filled with Draco's playful nibbling of her lip, Hermione's teasing licking of his. When they finally pulled away they were breathless, but eager to lose said breathlessness all over again.

This couldn't just be it. Hermione had to know who had trapped her in a web of intimacy that she wanted to repeat until the end of time. She swallowed, a hand easing itself from his neck and reaching for his mask. She was surprised when her hand was caught in his and he slowly shook his head.

"You'll hate me."

Hermione frowned. "How do you know that?"

Draco tried not to let his melancholy show, but it was downright impossible. "Because everyone already does."

"So…after tonight you'll just…we'll just…go?"

She hated how desperate she sounded. Draco loved it. He was wanted. Needed even. How could he deny her? How could he deny himself? With a shaky breath he rested his forehead on hers.

"Your mask first."

Hermione had no issues complying. She nodded and slowly slipped hers off. Draco impressively held back his shock. Granger. It was _Granger_. But the fact that he was attracted to her -her, the former bane of his existence, the witch who'd once annoyed him to no end, the girl-turned-woman who he'd been forbidden to like due to his long-ditched prejudices -wasn't the problem. It was the fact that he knew she would hate that it was _him_ who had stolen her affection.

"Your turn."

Draco didn't want to, but he reluctantly and with a shaky hand slid his mask down. Unlike himself, Hermione couldn't suppress her surprise. And what else was that he had seen in her eyes? Was that disappointment? Was it regret? It was something, and it made Draco's world shatter like glass.

"I knew you'd hate me."

Hermione didn't reply. She didn't move out of his arms either. She was stuck in limbo –an in between of her past and her present with the blond she avoided in the halls. He wasn't evil, she knew. He was different, she knew. And although one's past shouldn't define who they were, his past was carved in stone.

And yet, his present had captured her own. He was delicate, careful, sweet, and enticing. Why did his true mask have to obscure what lay underneath? She focused on his eyes. She zeroed in on his lips. She continued to feel his hands, and all of those things were what made her heart flutter more times in one night than it had ever in her life.

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes and let her senses take control. She eased into him, hugging him almost, and buried her head into his neck. A second later she was standing on her toes so that she could reach his ear.

"Masquerades allow you to be someone else for a while." She whispered to him. "I…I'd rather do that."

Draco felt giddy. He let his grip on Hermione tighten, not only to steady himself, but to keep her close. "What about tomorrow?"

Hermione pulled back from him some and stared into his eyes, dissolving the Malfoy coating and burying it with his past. "When tonight's over, then we can think about tomorrow."

Draco nodded and leaned back in, stealing her lips in a kiss that was less gentle, more passionate, and bleeding into her every hope that tomorrow wouldn't be filled with any regrets.

Hermione, using what little concentration she had to conjure a bubble of heat around them, felt the snow melt beneath her feet. And as she felt one strap of her dress slip, and heard the tumble of Draco's hat as it hit the ground, she hoped that tomorrow, after the entanglement of white and black, that she'd still be seeing grey.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Hello :). So this little tidbit came at the awful time of one a.m. when I had to be up for work at 5:30. Regardless, I'm proud of it and I hope that you liked it! Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. I'm considering, though I'm honestly not sure, of writing more. We'll see.

Thanks for reading!

-WP


	2. Inner Musings

Even after making unconventional snow angels in the blanket of white and melting what remained, Draco's and Hermione's night still didn't end. They had haphazardly dressed, donning once again their masks –not to hide from each other, but from everyone else.

Their hands had been interlocked as they traversed the halls, eyeing passersby who encouraged their frivolity with gentle head nods, winks, and knowing smiles.

That night as they travelled through the castle (or during the wee hours of the morning, rather) Draco had glanced down at her from his periphery. With her mask on he had tried to pick out the features that belonged to her and, for the life of him, couldn't do it. Perhaps it was the title of her name that had made him oblivious to the physical traits that his heart, mind, and body had yearned for the moment he'd set his eyes on her.

He had scoffed on the inside, and it pained him to think that something as insignificant as a name could cause blindness.

But wait, that wasn't true wasn't? While it had made him miss out on could-haves and what-ifs, titles had hardly made _him_ invisible. Draco was a blaring memory for all those involved in the war and he made everyone miserable with his presence.

 _Except maybe her…?_ Draco had thought, and still thought, as he stared up at the ceiling above him, very aware of the brunette whose sleeping form was resting on top of him.

They were in the Room of Requirement. When they had left the grounds and entered the castle, neither had spoken. Neither had left the other's side nor aimed their walking towards their respective Houses. Their steps had been in tune as they finally halted. While neither had voiced what they needed, a door still appeared before them and they slipped themselves inside. What they saw was a mélange of their subconscious –their desires transformed into a tangible space.

Never once had Draco ever thought that silver and green and red and gold would look so good together.

And now here they lay, Hermione sleeping soundlessly with Draco as her pillow and his arms wrapped around her. He didn't have a clue what time it was, and a clock wouldn't appear in the room because he didn't want it to. He couldn't help but think that the moment they left whatever spell that had charmed them last night would break instantly.

For her.

So some say, people don't change. And it was true, some didn't. But war had a way of reshaping an already cut mold. Sometimes it was for the worse, and sometimes it was for the better. In Draco's case, it was _definitely_ for the better.

Now, he wasn't going to say that he had been a troubled teen who had made all the wrong choices. No, every decision he'd made he'd done because he had honestly believed he was doing the right thing and because he had enjoyed it. Thinking muggleborns were inferior. Being the worst bully in history. Believing that his father was right. Believing that _Voldemort_ was right and that they had to do away with the "mudblood problem." Everything had been fine until sixth year when the beginnings of a war began to take flight.

He didn't know why (and sometimes he still tried to figure it out), but the thought that he may actually have to shed some blood to turn the world into what the Deatheaters wanted hadn't even crossed his mind. Draco had been (and still was) capable of doing terrible things. However, even then he wasn't able to bring death to anyone. It seemed so...unnatural and against the laws of man.

It was that thought that had stopped him that night. Not cowardice. It was a rational thought process that had tugged at the chord of his humanity and it hadn't stopped being strummed since. With every act of cruelty he had bared witness to it sobered him. Couldn't there be another way? These people –muggleborns, squibs, blood traitors, and the like –they would be subject to them one day if everything went according to plan. Shouldn't there be some sort of mercy?

Apparently not.

There wasn't mercy for anyone. Not even for the people who served that snake-like dictator.

Draco had watched the deterioration of his father and saw himself in his place. The same disheveled appearance. The same haggard look. The stress neatly written across his features.

Was it worth it?

No, it wasn't.

It wasn't worth his health. It wasn't worth his life. And it wasn't worth his parents' lives either. It's what motivated him to lie to his aunt about Potter being in their Manor. Granted, he did go after him in the Room of Requirement, but that had been wholly out of fear. His mother had lied about Potter being alive. What would have happened to her if somehow Voldemort didn't die?

In the end they and his father had walked away –from the battle, yes, but not from punishment. His father was currently in Azkaban where he was destined to spend the rest of his life unless his parole -the hearing for which would be held sometime in the next seventeen years -got him out. His mother had managed to escape the once Dementor-ridden prison due to a testimony from Potter. Her particular sentence was one confined to her home for five years. Considering the vast nature of the Manor (the grounds excluded) it was hardly a punishment.

As for Draco, he had managed to escape any reprimand at all. Once again his family had Potter to thank for that –that and a whole bunch of utter nonsense about him being "impressionable" and "doing what he did because of his family." However partially true that may have been, the bottom line was that Draco had made some _horrible_ choices and ignored every chance to walk away until most of the damage had already been done.

Although Draco hadn't been given any Azkaban time or house arrest, the cruel glares, huffs in his direction, ignoring his presence, the hateful comments, and other things, those had been (and still were) punishment enough. He had never felt so alone or alienated in his life. Always on top, always the one to turn to, _that's_ what he was used to. Not the degradation. Oftentimes he wondered if this was what the muggleborns felt like when he tormented them.

Over the years Draco's thoughts would drift over to the witch who was currently nuzzling her cheek onto his chest. He thought of her the most because he had taunted her the most. A witch who, had her blood not been "dirty" and even despite her House (although better yet in Slytherin), she would've been a perfect match for him. Her intelligence, wit, and resourcefulness were endearing qualities smeared by the picture of imperfection that had clouded his judgment. But he hadn't been brought up to see her that way. Still couldn't see her that way.

At least not until last night.

Last night had tainted his ugly image of her clean. The only stain that remained was his fear that her image of _him_ was marred beyond hope. Well, maybe not _all_ hope. Even after his mask was gone she had still let herself be enveloped by him. Maybe then it would be okay? He wasn't asking for a relationship –Merlin forbid. He didn't take such steps lightly nor had he ever had the pleasure of pursuing such a path. Besides, he was a realist, and he knew that one night of sleeping with someone didn't mean you were conjoined at the hip. Last night –including the short conversations, the dancing, and the walk –had been the first time he'd been close to _anyone_ in three years. It had felt good and chased his loneliness away. If he could keep any portion of that, no matter how small the fraction, he would die for it. Even if it only started and stayed with her friendship.

Draco prayed that she would be receptive to it and soon flinched in anxiousness when she began to stir.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Well, obviously this isn't a one-shot anymore :). After posting this my imagination started to run wild and I couldn't help myself. Your reviews also helped with that :D, so clap yourselves on the back!

The story won't be very long (maybe four, five chapters?) as this is a _very_ critical look at a specific moment in Hermione and Draco's lives. The chapters won't be very long either, but I would hope that the whole "quality vs. quantity" thing comes into play here.

Thanks SO MUCH for the support for chapter one. It really does mean a lot.

Until next time :)

-WP


	3. Pleasure

Hermione had never done anything so reckless in her life -and she had followed Harry and Ron around for years. But of course, that had been a mission to save the wizarding world while this... _situation_ had been a personal vendetta that she had to see through.

And see through she did.

From the moment her dress had fallen in a graceful heap, Ginny's words had swarmed around her head. _Don't be afraid to do something a little not you._ If sleeping with a stranger in the middle of a public area on melting snow wasn't "not her" then she didn't know what was.

And yes, Draco Malfoy was a stranger. At least the version of him that had stolen all practically from her was.

Since the Battle of Hogwarts and before the historic school reopened its doors Hermione had seen him only once. It had been at his Ministry hearing. Harry was going to testify on his behalf, and although she had seen Ron's point about why "the ferret should rot in Azkaban with his father," she couldn't bring herself to wish that fate on him. Unlike his father, Malfoy had, although few, redeemable qualities about him that deserved a chance to blossom and be put to good use. Whether or not he would use his second chance at leading a good life wisely was, of course, up for question, but Hermione believed in second chances. Were it not for those chances, people like Sirius would remain behind bars. People like Snape wouldn't have the chance to leave a positive mark in the world. A world without chances was cruel, and so she had been happy when the Wizengamot had let Malfoy go. As the courtroom began to disperse, Malfoy, apparently still shocked at the outcome of what he thought would be a death sentence, had looked up into the stands and caught Hermione's eye. She had given him a subtle nod of encouragement and then left, never seeing him again.

That was three years ago.

In those three years she hadn't thought of him and had no reason to. She had occupied her time with post-war tasks –rounding up Deatheaters on the run, heading up a research team to find concrete evidence that would stick before the Wizengamot, aiding the organization of cleanup teams to help restore ransacked towns, and a whole host of other things. With Kingsley as the new Minister of Magic, Hermione had become an unofficial Ministry employee –floating between Departments and putting her talents to use wherever they were needed.

And then Hogwarts was _finally_ restored and admitting students. Professor McGonagall, the new Headmistress, had written personal correspondences to her, Harry, and Ron at the start of the summer saying that if they wanted, they were more than welcome to return. _"Although you seem to have settled wonderfully into adulthood,"_ she had added fondly. For her friends there had been no need, but they eagerly replied saying that they would be there on the first day to view the opening of the castle's doors and to watch the First Years get sorted. Hermione could have very well written back the same, but instead she had said, _"See you for the academic year, Professor."_

Yes, now that three years had gone by everything had properly settled down. And yes, after demonstrating her skills and aptitude she had official job offers of Auror, Judicial Advocate, Junior Misuse of Magic Case Manager, and Senior Magical Researcher waiting for her. But even then, Hogwarts was still calling her home. So she went. Although Ginny was yet another person who was firmly set in adult life, she opted to return to Hogwarts with her –more out of friendship than anything else.

For that Hermione had been more grateful than she thought she would. Sure, there were a few (emphasis on few) students who had come back to complete the year they'd missed – _years_ for those who had opted out of their sixth as well. But even then, the faces she had seen when she had entered the school weren't recognizable enough to feel the kind of camaraderie she had with Harry and Ron or Ginny. She had felt, oddly enough, out of place.

Despite still looking the same, Hogwarts felt new. New students. New teachers. New...life. Being back after all that time had somehow let her know, for a fact, that her childhood had been buried beneath the rubble that was the Battle of Hogwarts. It didn't help either that Draco Malfoy had come back to finish out his schooling too.

How utterly _shocked_ she had been when she saw him. Ginny had been too. The whole school really –even the teachers. And no one had been discreet about it. The combined whispers had given way to a low rumble that swept the Great Hall. The stares –no the harsh _glares_ that people were giving him could be felt. It had been a nightmare.

And that night she even had one. It had been at least a year since the last time she had woken in a panicked frenzy, only to be calmed down by one of her friends at her bedside. All of her war-inflicted wounds had healed, but her mental state had had a hard time adjusting to not sleeping in forests and not having to be constantly vigilant because she was on the run. Seeing him had brought back everything she'd repressed as though the war was still happening. And so, as the school year began and days turned into weeks and weeks into months, Hermione had kept her distance from him.

Until last night.

She couldn't for the life of her understand why she hadn't recognized him. His voice was the same. His eyes were the same. His body had filled out some than when he was in school, but it was still undeniably Malfoy. But it was his actions. No, she hadn't expected him to whip out his wand and start shooting Cruciatus Curses at her, but she still hadn't expected him to be the one behind such sensual and fulfilling affection. It held care, sensitivity, yearning, and patience. He had treated her as though she was a precious object and Hermione could only conclude that her insatiable curiosity was what had urged her to see things through. She had already gone down the rabbit hole. What harm could it have done to dig it deeper?

All of this Hermione thought of as her drowsiness turned to awareness. She was in the Room of Requirement with him and she had no idea how long they'd been there. She absolutely _dreaded_ the walk of shame she'd be doing on her way back to her House. What she dreaded more was the awkward looks and conversation that was sure to follow the complete opening of her eyes.

When she did, she willed herself not to mentally jump back in time to awful memories. Instead she focused on his eyes and his lips, not to mention his hands wrapped around her lower torso.

"Hello," Hermione said softly.

"Hello," Draco replied just the same.

And there it was. The awkwardness that followed when sleeping with someone you had no business being with in the first place. Hermione slowly sat up, and Draco regrettably let his hands fall away from her and settle neatly onto his lap as he followed suit.

"Do… Do you know what time it is?" She asked him.

 _No, and I don't want to know._ Draco thought bitterly, but her request was answered by the room itself as a grandfather clock appeared by the wall in front of them. It read noon.

 _Buggering hell. We've been in here that long?_ Hermione chided herself. Draco had been surprised by the time too, but he was much better at suppressing his emotions than she was.

"I should go." Hermione said suddenly. "My friend-"

"The Weasley girl," Draco named.

Hermione faltered some at that, but quickly recovered with a quiet "yes," followed by the clearing of her throat. "She's probably been all over the castle looking for me by now."

Draco nodded in comprehension and watched as she stood, her white dress clinging to get body just as beautifully as it had last night. His lungs constricted at the thought that they were moments away from putting their night behind them. To avoiding each other in the halls. To catching each other's eye from a distance but never coming any closer than that. He wanted to say something, _anything_ before she left, but his mouth was unable to voice what his brain has already laid out for him.

Hermione was at the door now, her hand on the knob, but she didn't turn it. She stood there for Merlin knew how long, still as a statue, and embarrassingly attracting the blond's attention.

"What is it?"

Hermione didn't face him. With her eyes settled on the door she sighed and said, "Students will be heading to lunch now and...I'm still wearing my dress."

What exactly would his response be to that? Did her statement even elicit one? The silence was unbearable and it seemed to be mocking her. Just as she was about to trudge forward and face the consequences head on she gasped.

Draco had gotten up from the sofa that they had slept on and walked up behind her. She felt expensive robes fall onto her shoulders and then soothing hands following the path of her arms down to her hands.

It was instinctual on her part to intertwine them and Draco let her.

"Better?" He asked in a whisper. It took all the willpower Hermione had not to visualize the movement of his lips as he said the word.

"Yes, thank you."

"My pleasure,"

 _Damn._

She turned around then, just in time to see the end of the pucker that finished off "pleasure." And by Merlin did it give her that very sensation. Draco regarded her with a hidden amusement at the flushing of her skin.

"You must never say that word to me ever again." Hermione said quickly. Draco tilted his head.

"What word?"

She didn't answer, nor did she have to. He did a rapid vocabulary intake of what he'd recently said as a precursor to her reddening skin, and all at once the wicked Slytherin rose within him and Draco smirked.

"You mean 'pleasure?'"

Hermione's skin flushed on command and he felt his own twitch of desire as she did.

Draco chuckled sweetly. "No promises."

Her skin must've resembled a beet by now –especially because her imagination had taken over and filled her head with all the compromising positions that word could lead to.

Hermione swallowed. "I really do need to go."

Draco nodded. "If you have to."

She didn't have to. She needed to. And so she left, clinging Draco's robes to herself tightly, realizing along the way that it smelled not only of him, but of her too.

* * *

 **Author's note:** You guys are amazing :). Thanks for all the great reviews, follows, favorites, and simply just for reading!

Now, as for the story –Draco in particular. Can you just imagine his innocent yet mischievous face as he taunts Hermione with the word "pleasure?" It was honestly the highlight of my day writing that.

-WP


	4. Light Reading

Malfoy's robes had provided an excellent cover of her white dress. Hermione managed to manoeuver her way to the Gryffindor common room with ease –past various students in casual wear (for it was Saturday), and teachers taking it easy. When she made it past the portrait she breathed a sigh of relief. When she finally made it to her bedroom –a very generous two-bed space arranged by Professor McGonagall seeing as she and Ginny were among two of the oldest witches here –she smiled when she realized that an awful run-in with her redheaded roommate had been averted. Granted, a conversation filled with latent accusation was unavoidable seeing as she hadn't gone back to their room at all last night, but at least she was free for now. She could undress in peace. She could slip on a shirt and a pair of denims and hide out in the library for the rest of the afternoon. Maybe she could even come back when she was sure Ginny was asleep and-

"Well, look who's back."

Hermione cringed and paused her movements. Her wand was in her hand to slide the zipper down on her dress, but now she couldn't move. She didn't have to look at Ginny to know that she was smiling. When she actually did face her the woman was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. The brunette let her arms fall to her side and she awkwardly rolled her wand between her hands.

"Hi Ginny,"

"Oh, don't you 'hi' me!" Ginny said excitedly as she ushered herself further into the bedroom, making sure to cast a Silencing and Locking Charm on the door once she'd shut it. " _You_ disappeared from the ball last night."

Hermione sighed. "Yes, I did, but-"

"And you left with that guy who asked you to dance."

Hermione began to wring her hands together. "Yes, he was with me, but we-"

"And you were gone _all night._ " Ginny smiled maliciously. "Spill every detail."

"Oh, no," Hermione began shaking her head. "I couldn't possibly-"

"Don't you dare! You, Miss Granger, have slept with only two other people in your life. You thought I was too young to know any details about you and Viktor, and I damn sure didn't want to hear anything about what you did with my brother. Every. _Detail_. _**Right now.**_ "

Hermione couldn't help her laugh. She rolled her eyes soon after and sat on the edge of her bed, urging the witch to sit across from her since she knew this topic wouldn't be dropped.

" _Well?_ "

"Gin," Hermione said shyly as she rubbed her arm. "You know me. For me to give exact details is…"

"Hermione, my boyfriend is miles away from me." Ginny told her as her eyes danced with delight. "At this rate even the vaguest of descriptions will satisfy me."

Hermione laughed again. "I thought you wanted every detail."

Ginny shrugged girlishly. "I was being greedy. So, your night?"

"My night…" She took a deep breath and relished the memories. "It was amazing, Ginny. He was sweet and gentle and…took his time. When it was over we just went to the Room of Requirement, laid down and did nothing but enjoy the quiet until we fell asleep. And when I say enjoy the quiet, I really mean that we did. Or at least I did." She added with a soft chuckle. "It just felt good to be there. With him…"

"Room of Requirement?" Ginny asked with a tilted head. "Did you take him there?"

"Yes and no. We kind of just took each other."

"He's redoing his Year then." She observed. "There aren't very many students who know about that room, and those who do all went to school with us." Her eyes lit up then as recognition kicked in. "Well, that just limits the choices for me to guess who the lucky guy was!"

Hermione felt her chest sink. "Gin, I don't even know who he was." She said with a guilty conscience. "We had our masks on the whole time."

"Hm…that certainly adds a bit of mystery to your already mysterious night and all, but doesn't that bother you? You seem like you had a really good time –outside of the sex, I mean."

"I, well, I suppose I did."

"Don't you want to know who he is then?" Ginny questioned. "For all we know this could be the boyfriend you've been looking for."

"Ginny," Hermione groaned. "I already told you that I wasn't looking for a boyfriend."

"Shagging buddy?"

"Not that either! Can we just settle on the fact that I had a wonderful night with someone and let it go? It's…" The brunette surprisingly began to feel sad as her voice trailed away. "It's never going to happen again anyway."

Ginny frowned. "If you say so. But," she said as she got up and fingered the set of robes Hermione had set down on her bed. "If I were you, I'd keep my eyes out for a bloke missing a set of robes."

* * *

His room felt like a prison.

He'd been given one all to himself; and while he knew that students redoing their Years were sectioned off together, there were other adult Slytherins here too, but he was kept away from them.

At least unlike other prisons Draco could leave this one.

It was roughly two in the morning and he couldn't sleep. It was partly due to restlessness, partly due to the flashbacks of a certain witch that sent his arousal through the roof. And to think, it was just twenty-four hours ago when his depressing life had been given a new light. A light, he feared, that would disappear and leave him in the dark again.

With a sigh, Draco got out of bed. He reached for robes that he didn't have and instead slipped a sweater over his head. There was no one in the common room, thank Merlin, so he was able to make an exit without attracting whispers or scathing glares. His walk to the library was a slow, casual one. Patrol on a Saturday night was always a half-arsed job by prefects and teachers alike even though the most sneaking around happened over the weekend. Not that he was worried. He was left alone all the time anyway –not to mention adult students tended to have less restrictions.

Draco traversed the halls until his feet had taken him to the library. Although he had already been a reader in his spare time, the past few years had turned him into an avid one. His love of libraries had flourished because it was one of the few places that was intentionally quiet. People whispered because they had to, not because they were talking about you. Of course odds were that he was still getting talked about, but it gave him a bit of comfort at thinking that that might not be the case.

Once inside he bypassed tables and shelves until he made it to the restricted section. He had to admit that with all the stigma associated with him he probably shouldn't be here, but students needed permission to be in there and that limited how many he could run into.

It made him feel at ease and he calmly went in search of something to distract him from his thoughts.

* * *

Hermione simply _had_ to escape her room.

Ginny was a regular night owl, and no matter how much she tried to tune out the redhead's grumblings, she could still hear her. Under her breath she was going through a list of students redoing their Years and trying to figure out who among them could afford a set of Roman Olivier robes –the designer name she had read on the tag living in the robes' collar.

Hermione didn't like to judge anyone's character, but she would bet her signed first edition _Hogwarts, A History_ that only Malfoy could afford such fancy robes. She wondered when Ginny would come to that conclusion. _If_ she came to that conclusion at all. Knowing her, the woman would skip over his name entirely –sure that it was a complete impossibility and out of an act of a pure dismissal of him

Eventually her friend did fall asleep, and although her musings and suspicions had died down, Hermione still couldn't stand to lay where she was. With a huff and grabbing those very robes that were the subject of Ginny's train of thought, she walked along the cool Hogwarts corridors at the obscene hour of two-thirty a.m. to the library. Of course she could have always read in the common room, but there was always one lingering student who was just as restless as she. No one would be in the library now, and she could take solace in the fact that she'd be there alone.

Once past the large doors she smiled at her haven. In all her years there she'd already gone through most of the books in the public access section of the library. Her adult mind craved something a bit more in-depth, challenging, and secluded. With those characteristics in mind she headed straight to the restricted section with the hopes of getting her hands on something rare –maybe on an age-old theory that could still have some applications to today if it was looked at from a different perspective.

Hermione was delighted with the possibilities and went in search of her time killer when she paused at hearing a noise.

It was faint, but having had her nose stuck in some book or another for years she knew what the turning of a page sounded like. Who else aside from her would seek refuge in a library at this time of night? Her question was answered when she found the source of the noise and she almost swore aloud.

 _Can my luck be_ _ **honestly**_ _that bad?_

But was it "bad" luck? Although she had tried to suppress the feeling throughout the rest of the afternoon and while attempting to sleep, she found herself missing –and quite possibly _craving_ –Malfoy's attention. Not the raunchy side to it either, because before either one of them had succumbed to feral passions they had talked. It had been that and the innocent intimacies that had attracted her to him in the first place. The sex had simply been a delicious cherry on top.

Before the mask came off.

She wondered now if it was possible to start off a new encounter without anonymity standing between them.

"Couldn't sleep?" Draco asked as he looked up from his book. He had known the moment someone had come into the restricted section because he was eerily aware of his surroundings. A handy side-effect of being in a war. He hadn't known it was her, though, and now he found it harder than ever to keep his concentration straight.

Hermione cleared her throat once, clearly surprised that he had noticed her. "No."

Draco nodded. "And here I was thinking I'd be the only one here."

"I can go. Actually I probably _should_ go. It's late and-"

"You can stay." He interrupted her ramble. "You didn't walk all this way here for nothing so...grab a book. If you want."

Yes, that had been her intention. To grab a book and drown herself in centuries old words, but seeing Malfoy here had completely thrown her off. Now she found herself scrutinizing him. His slumped shoulders. His tired eyes. The firm way he held his lips. The rigidity of his posture. This was _not_ the same jovial man she had the joy of spending her night with. This one looked broken. In fact, he almost resembled how he had looked during those spare moments she'd see him during sixth year.

Sixth year.

An _awful_ time and it made Hermione shiver just thinking about it. Draco frowned when he saw her do it. With a deep sigh he closed his opened book and stood.

"I'll go. You stay."

Hermione blinked in confusion. "What? Why?"

"My being here bothers you."

"No," she shook her head. "No, it-"

" _Yes_ , it does." Draco said firmly. He sighed as he stepped out from in front of his chair and pushed it in. "I could recognize that look of unease in my sleep, Granger. It's fine."

It was Hermione's turn to frown as she saw the sorrowful disposition that overcame him so quickly. Her conscience began to gnaw at her and she knew she couldn't let him walk off like that. So she sighed and called him back.

"Malfoy, wait." She said with as little pity as she could muster. "Stay, please. I'll go find a book and come back. Okay?"

Draco stared at her with a cautious expression. "You don't have to do this for my benefit."

"I'm not."

 _I am._

"But you were right; I didn't come here for nothing. Besides, you were here first and _my_ being here shouldn't run you out."

Draco was struck speechless. _Her_ being here shouldn't run _him_ out? He couldn't believe it. This was the first time in three years anyone had ever been conscientious of his feelings. There was no way he could leave now and let her generosity give way to the wind. So, still in awe, he sat down and watched her smile as she left him to go track down something to read. He reopened his book, but he didn't go back to reading it. He had to see it for himself. Was she _really_ coming back?

Seconds ticked by. Then minutes. It was bordering on seven and Draco just knew that he had been abandoned. He sighed, ready to get up and head back to Slytherin when he heard footsteps.

"Sometimes too many options is a bad thing." Hermione chuckled as she got to the table and sat down. Draco couldn't hide his amusement when realized that she had not one, not two, but three books in front of her.

"You're not planning on tackling all of those tonight, are you?" Draco asked. "It _is_ almost three in the morning."

Hermione laughed. "No, I just couldn't decide between them. Bookworm habits are a bit hard to break."

"And very easy to pick up." He remarked, raising his book as he spoke.

"I suppose it is. Here's to reading then."

Draco watched her as she eagerly began to digest one of the books she had set down. The library was silent with the exception of her turning pages, but his concentration had fled. He simply sat there, his own book open, as he picked the brunette apart.

Granger.

This witch who he'd seen in this position countless times, but now he appreciated it. The way her eyes narrowed. The way she nibbled –no, _chewed_ on her bottom lip. The way her head titled to the side. The way she brushed back strands of her hair away from her face. The way her eyes widened and mouth hung slightly open at times.

Draco was capable of holding back his emotions well, but at this moment he _had_ to give in. He laughed. He laughed louder than he could ever remember doing and the sound ricocheted off bookshelves. Hermione looked at him, clearly surprised by his outburst.

"What exactly are you reading that's so funny?" Hermione asked. Draco's smile was wide and his shoulders shook to a low calm.

"Honestly? You,"

" _Me?_ "

"Yes," Draco nodded. "You have…interesting expressions and mannerisms when you read."

"Oh," Hermione replied, trying her hardest not to blush. She had turned red enough for him already in the last twenty-four hours. "I didn't realize I was so expressive."

"Yes, you can be…" A vision of her beneath him, the look on her face as he purred seductive words into her ear, the verbal _and_ physical sentiments she gave him in return.

Draco cleared his throat. "…quite expressive."

 _Draco Malfoy blushing._ Hermione thought. _Well, that's something you don't see every day._

"Well," Hermione began. "You have to admit that it's a bit hard to stifle yourself when you're enjoying something."

Draco nearly knocked his book to the floor. Instead he stared at Hermione who seemed to have realized what her words had insinuated. Her cheeks were pink, but he wanted them red. He licked his lips once and said with confidence, "You should never refrain yourself from pleasure."

Unlike her companion, Hermione's book slipped from her fingers.

It was official.

She looked _wonderful_ bathed in red.

"Malfoy," she said in a near whisper. "You promised."

"I believe my exact words were ' _no_ promises.'"

Hermione shook her head at him –first in disbelief, but also to shake off away the images of last night that had flashed across her memory. The fact that they could be repeated, that she suddenly _wanted_ them to be repeated seemed like an act against nature.

She sighed. "How can you be okay with this?"

Draco stared at her with a raised brow. He didn't have to ask what the "this" was. "I could ask you the same question."

Hermione fidgeted some in her seat. "I asked first."

 _What can I say? Because I'm tired of being alone? Because you're the only person who's willingly gotten near me in years? Because you so happen to have features associated with the woman I fell for in record time? A woman who wasn't afraid of me. Yes, the latter sounds better. Less desperate. Although, a bit depressing._

Draco let out his own sigh. "Because…I still think of you as the woman in white."

Hermione frowned. "I… I don't know how exactly to take that. It's not exactly a compliment. You, pretending that I'm someone else. Someone you don't know."

Draco's voice hitched when he realized how he'd sounded. "Granger, that's not what I-"

"You should like me for me, not the anonymous woman you danced with, kissed-"

"You weren't anonymous when I slept with you." Draco interrupted. "And you shouldn't take what I said as something negative."

Hermione scoffed. "How can I not?"

"Because my thinking of you as I saw you that night is the only way I can be sure you don't hate me."

Hermione's features softened. "What?"

"The woman from that ball didn't know me." He explained. "And she wanted me. You, on the other hand, have a problem with me."

"Malfoy, I don't have-"

"Or the past associated with me at least. I think we already established that a few moments ago, didn't we?"

Her opened mouth snapped shut at that because she did. She didn't want to, but how could she not when he was a walking manifestation of everything that tore their world apart such a short time ago?

"It's your turn to answer the question."

"I guess…it's the same as you." Hermione reluctantly answered. "It's hard to separate you from the man from that night. I try not to so I'm not scared."

Draco looked crestfallen. "I don't want you to be afraid of me."

"The past associated with you, you mean." She corrected. "It's nothing you should take personally. As for you as a person, I'm not afraid."

The blond wanted to smile, but he refrained. Was it too early to be happy about this prospect? It could be. So, instead he offered a tight-lipped nod. He wanted to say something else too, so he did, slowly letting the words spill from his mouth as he tested this new ground between them.

"You'd be the first out of a sea of people, Granger." Draco told her, his vulnerability showing much more than he would like. "At least…there's one less person to ignore me in the halls."

His words hit Hermione harder than she thought they would. They held so much meaning, so much _insight_ to the man sitting across from her. He was a soul broken and beaten down by society. There was simply no other way to describe it. He was right though. She would be one less person adding to his alienation. Quite honestly, whether she had seen and heard his crumbling façade or not, she wouldn't have been able to ignore him even if she wanted to.

"Agreed," Hermione said to his last statement as she rose from her seat. Draco did the same, gathering his book in his hands while she picked up her three.

Without another word they wandered through the library. Draco followed closely as the witch checked the spines of her books and referenced them to shelf numbers so she could remember where she'd gotten them from. It was as he stared at her back that he realized for the first time that she was wearing his robes.

 _Had she been wearing them all this time?_

The verbal incident that followed after giving her those robes plagued his mind. As of right now her skin had returned to its natural shade and he found himself wanting to paint her red again. But how could he bring up that blessed catalyst without some sort of leeway?

Thank Merlin, she gave him one. Sort of.

"That's the last one." Hermione announced, more to herself than for his benefit. The third book she had floated up to its proper location and she smiled as she watched it go. They were standing near the entrance to the restricted section –its door wide open and beckoning them to the outside world where the rest of the masses resided.

All Draco wanted was a fix. The image of a flustered Granger and he could walk away with a slight skip to his step as he returned to his House. He stood behind her and he leaned down, his lips nearly brushing her ear.

"It was a pleasure."

There.

A furious blush stretched across the little of her neck he could see. Hermione turned around to face him, her neck and chest exposed to him since she hadn't bothered to fasten the robes together.

"I'm sorry." Draco said, hardly sorry at all. And he looked it. Completely unapologetic as his eyes danced with merriment. "I couldn't resist."

Resist.

Hermione had found yet another word that sent pleasurable shivers through her. It was less the way his lips formed to create it, but rather the way it sounded. The enticing adjective was like velvet on his tongue –dipping low and sensual when it came to the "ZIST" and ending in a soft trail.

 _Resist_.

Yes, it was something quite hard to do. Especially when the subject of your spontaneous bodily reactions now had the same mirth as he did the night when he took all of your senses away.

Tonight –or this morning, rather –made it the second time Hermione had initiated a kiss with Draco. He, honestly, hadn't expected it. It hadn't been his goal. He had been more than certain that a repeat of what had happened out on the grounds would never happen again. Or at least not so soon. All he had wanted was something to satisfy his infatuation with her flustered appearance.

Not that he was complaining.

Draco had been more than happy to close the door to the restricted section and to become completely _un_ restricted.

In a library.

On a table.

Amidst unreturned books.

Completely ignoring the sign above them that read, "No loud noises."

* * *

 **Author's note:** I don't think I've ever been more interested in going to a library…

Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for the support this story has been getting. I'm really happy and I'm glad that I could write something that interests you :).

Until the next chapter!

-WP


	5. Recollection

Draco had tested out a theory that very early morning and it was undeniably the best experiment he'd ever conducted. He'd found out that any variation of the word "pleasure" aroused the brunette witch.

"Pleasure" itself still made her skin redden. "Pleasure _s_ " when lowly rumbled into her ear made her take her lip between her teeth. "Pleasur _ed_ " licked onto her neck made her moan delectably. "Pleasur _able_ " as he slid himself into her made her dig her nails into his back. And, by far his favorite, "pleasur _ably_ " as he kissed across her chest, down her stomach, and past her navel even lower, made her arch her back in such a way that magnified his own sense of pleasure a million fold.

He had never been such a fan of words until now.

It had been just after five a.m. when they had left the library. Draco had properly _Scourgified_ the table and anything else that may have been touched by them. Hermione, ever the perfectionist, or perhaps this was out of sheer paranoia, had done it two more times after him –even on things that Draco tried to tell her wasn't necessary.

They walked together in silence, although it was less awkward than their first time together.

Draco looked at her as she pulled his robes closer around her. "Can I tell you something? Something I hope you don't take offense to?"

Hermione eyed him cautiously before giving him the nod to continue.

"Well, what just happened back there..." Draco said slowly as he jetted a thumb back towards the library's direction. "You never struck me as the type of person to have sex in such an…unconventional place."

" _Places_ ," Hermione couldn't help but amend. Her blush had returned, but this one was more innocent. "And you're right, I'm not. At all. I'm honestly quite shy about these things."

Draco stared at her like she'd just sprouted a third eye. "I think you need to adjust your definition of 'shy,' Granger."

Hermione was sure she looked like an apple by now and she refused to look at him. Draco noticed and found it absolutely astonishing. She was, (and he could hear his old self scoffing loudly at this) undeniably, a fierce and gentle lover –however she was able to make _that_ combination work. And so, to have her look completely innocent and utterly embarrassed to bring up their exploits, it was funny. In a good way. It confirmed that saying about not judging a book by its cover. There was more to this witch who was walking beside him, and he hoped, almost desperately and quite shamelessly, that she thought the same about him.

"I should probably give this back to you." Hermione said as she began to slip off his robes. Draco quickly stopped her.

"No, no, keep it. It's cold. I don't want you to freeze on the way back."

 _Sweet. Thoughtful. Malfoy's going to kill me with this caring side of him._

"Thank you."

Draco held back the urge to say, "My pleasure." He'd exploited that word enough and decided to give it a rest before it no longer had the same effect that he'd grown to appreciate and yearn for. Instead he nodded, and once again they parted ways. Unlike the last time that they did Hermione turned back once, a small smile on her lips before she continued on her way to her House. As Draco headed back to his own, he had officially decided that this had shaped up to be a weekend for the ages.

But come tomorrow –midnight tonight, in fact –the weekend would be dead. Monday was the official start of the Christmas holiday and the Hogwarts Express would be coming to take students home. Although as an adult student Draco had the option to come and go from the castle as much as he liked, he had yet to return to the Manor. He'd written letters to his mother, yes, but he somehow couldn't bring himself to visit. His childhood home held so much…memories of past mistakes. He didn't want to be burdened by them anymore than he already was. But for the sake of the season he would go.

He'd go home. Granger would go home. And when they came back he could already envision the barrier that would re-erect itself between them.

Draco sighed.

This was going to be one _depressing_ Christmas.

* * *

"Nice robes, Hermione." Harry said as he greeted her off the train. "Did some shopping in Hogsmeade, I see."

"Oh, uh," she stammered. The knowing smile on Ginny's face didn't help her confidence any either. "Yeah, I did. Great bargain."

"Yes, the salesman was _very_ generous to her." Ginny added mischievously. Hermione could've killed her.

"Well, they look good on you. Come on, Mrs. Weasley's preparing lunch. Ron's there too. He would've come, but Mrs. Weasley figured that if he was going to eat everything he'd might as well learn how to make some of it."

Ginny raised a brow. "Were you at my parents'?"

"I'm _always_ at your parents."

"Hmm, that's either very sweet or very creepy."

Harry laughed and pecked a kiss on Ginny's cheek as he led the way to the muggle platform. Hermione followed, somehow catching Draco's eye as he also headed towards the platform.

"Potter, Weasley," Draco greeted.

"Malfoy," they both said together with little feeling (although Harry had more than Ginny).

"Granger,"

"Malfoy," Hermione said. Time seemed to slow as she walked passed him. He never broke eye contact and she wasn't going to be the one to do it. His scent wafted under her nose –not cologne, but a natural smell that, regrettably, his robes no longer emitted. He didn't smile at her, but neither did she with him. Instead there was an understood agreement between them –one Hermione wasn't sure what it said, but it gave her a comfort anyway.

Hermione finally looked away when he was out of eyesight. He wasn't out of earshot though, and she heard him clearly say, "They really do look good on you."

She wondered if he'd meant to be heard.

* * *

"Draco, it's freezing! What in Merlin's name are you doing without your robes?"

"Oh yes, I'm fine, Mother, thank you very much for asking. The train ride was lovely as always."

"Don't be cheeky."

Draco sighed as he walked through the main fireplace of Malfoy Manor. "I _am_ wearing a cloak, Mother."

"Yes, but it isn't nearly as warm as your robes." Narcissa told him. "Where are they? Roman made those robes especially for you. If he ever got wind that you lost them-"

"Unless you wrote him and told him that yourself, then you're worrying for nothing. In fact, you _are_ worrying for nothing. They're just robes. Clothes. Clothes that I can buy anew if I need to."

"Oh, Draco,"

Draco rolled his eyes as his mother turned into a child right before his eyes. "I thought Malfoy's didn't pout."

"They don't." She said snootily. "But there's no one here to see me do it."

By that she meant that his father wasn't here to see her do it. He had been the one to enforce every Malfoy behavior within their home and to extinguish every behavior that wasn't.

Narcissa led the way through the Manor and into one of the many sitting rooms. One of their house elves already had tea prepared and Draco used his wand to warm them some. His mother had had her wand taken away for the duration of her home confinement. Not that that hindered her in any way. The house elves merely did more work around the Manor now than they used to –and that's saying something since they were already worked to the bone.

His mother sipped her tea happily, her posture impeccable although there were no guests to impress. "How's school?"

"How's house arrest?" Draco scowled on reflex.

"Draco!" Narcissa admonished. "I know that you're an adult, but this rudeness from you simply won't do!"

Draco sighed as he brought a hand to massage his temple. Tea was _not_ going to cut it. He called for a house elf and told him to bring him the strongest liquor Malfoy Manor had to offer. The tiny creature came back quickly with a bottle of something dark as well as a short glass.

Narcissa watched him as he opened it and poured the liquid into the glass. "That came from your father's stores."

"I'm aware."

Narcissa frowned. "I advised you not to go back, didn't I?"

"You did." Draco nodded. He closed his eyes as the alcoholic beverage seared his throat on the way down. He would have to drink this slowly if he didn't want to become a sloshed mess. An _angry_ sloshed mess to be precise. "But I don't regret the decision. I still have hopes to work for the Ministry one day and I want them to have as little reason not to hire me as possible. NEWT scores will be necessary."

"They could still deny you. It would probably give them great pleasure to do such a thing."

Draco shrugged and sipped his drink. "Perhaps, but I have to try."

They sat in silence then –for a few minutes at least. Narcissa set down her teacup and leaned slightly forward. "In all seriousness, Draco. How _is_ Hogwarts?"

"My time there or just in general?"

"Both?"

"The school is as good as new." Draco answered her. "You would have never thought it had been nearly obliterated. As for my time there… Well, it's been no different than my time outside of its walls."

Narcissa tutted. "Shameful. These people pride themselves on not being prejudiced. About giving people fair chances in life. You've been exonerated for Merlin's sake! With the help of Potter, no less! How can they treat you so poorly and sleep at night?"

"Because I'm the bad guy, remember? A monster. It makes things very easy that way –to dehumanize the enemy. If you recall, it made things easy for us as well."

Narcissa pursed her lips. Quietly she agreed. "Yes. Yes, it did."

* * *

The Christmas holiday was fast approaching and Hermione still had a massive list of presents to buy. In four days. It was both a blessing and a curse to have two families. While it made every festive event even more so and warm with all of the love, it was also maddening trying to make sure that she pleased everyone. They all always got her such wonderful gifts, it was only natural to want to do the same in return.

"Which one do you think Ron will like more?" Hermione asked as she held up two sweaters. Each were Chudley Cannons related, but with different designs on the front. Harry eyed them both before eventually settling for the one in her right hand. She smiled. "Great! I can finally get him off my list."

"Good. And you've got Ginny down, right?"

"From the last shoppe, yes."

"Nice. And I was with you when you got stuff for your folks, so that just leaves, what? Me and the rest of the Weasley family?"

Hermione frowned while Harry was grinning like mad. "Oh, Harry, I hate you."

"I think you meant to say that you love me, but I'll let it slide this time."

Harry laughed while she smacked him on the arm.

"Well, since I do have to go find something for you, shoo! I can't have you lurking over my shoulder."

"What? Don't trust me?"

Hermione snorted. "Not in the slightest."

Harry was all smiles again as he left her and Hermione was finally able to get back down to business. She would meet him at _Eadle's Eatery_ in an hour which, she felt, definitely wasn't enough time. But that's what she was heading out shopping again tomorrow for –with Ron this time. And the day after with Ginny. She found it necessary to break up her shopping between her friends because if they were all together? Merlin help her, she wouldn't get anything done.

Hermione chuckled to herself at the thought of it. She was currently walking out of her fifth store, sadly without anything for Harry, but happily with something to give to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. As she headed down the street the little girl in her came out when she spotted a small park off in the distance. Screw the shoppes. _This_ little gem was the real reason why Hermione liked going to the small wizarding town in Croydon. The park held a two-person swing-set, a merry-go-round, and a seesaw. The latter two magically operated themselves, but the swing-set was very muggle and for that reason it was mostly free since young kids seemed incapable of swinging alone.

Everything was snow-covered after a gentle snowfall came down earlier that day. Hermione still walked over though and used her wand to take away the snow on one set of the swings and to warm its seat. She set her belongings onto the snow and sat down.

While being here was lovely, Hermione felt absolutely sinful. It was the snow. It was a beautiful reminder of the blond surprise that she had left behind. Between the winter and books, they seemed to always remind her of him. His smile, his snarky chuckle, the way he looked at her... _Merlin_ , the way he looked at her. Still to her disbelief attraction was there. Lust was there. Amusement. Contentment. Amazement. Yes, she read it all in his face when he thought she wasn't looking. It was sad though, that when he _did_ know that she was looking –particularly when they were simply talking –vulnerability was there. It was as though –and she could confirm it now –that he was afraid of what she thought of him and of what she would say or do.

Vulnerability didn't suit him.

She hoped that she could somehow break him out of it. That, she realized while laughing to herself, meant that she would have to spend more time with him. Time that included non-shagging moments and _real_ quality time.

Oddly enough, Hermione didn't find the idea to be a bad one.

* * *

" _No._ " Draco said for umpteenth time as he brandished his wand. Pansy's name disappeared from off of the parchment his mother had on the desk.

Narcissa huffed. "You still haven't given me a reason why not. And, until you do, her name is going right back on the list. Daisy,"

Daisy the house elf, his mother's elven wand, raised her hand, but she hesitated. Draco's glare was one to kill and she was deathly afraid and confused as to what to do.

" _Daisy_ ," Narcissa addressed. "It's alright. Add the name."

"Daisy, don't you dare move an inch." Draco contradicted. The poor house elf kept moving her gaze from Mistress to Master before she became so flustered that she disappeared on the spot. She was always such the scared elf.

"Oh, now look what you've done!"

"Mother, I am _not_ having that clingy witch in this Manor."

"Come now," Narcissa scoffed. "Pansy's a grown woman. I'm sure she's past such an infantile stage."

"Last I heard she was hard up for a husband." Draco retorted. "That'll make her clingy enough."

"Well…is it so _wrong_ to have someone here who wants to-?"

"If you're going to play matchmaker, you could choose a much better witch."

"I agree." Narcissa nodded. "But all the other better witches are already married or engaged."

That much was true, Draco knew. The war seemed to have scared everyone into marrying quickly as though they would never get another chance if they waited. As it stood, Draco and Pansy were the only ones their age not coupled up.

"She'll come." Narcissa continued. She had chosen to manually write Pansy's name in and Draco cringed. "I expect you to play nice, Draco. However, if she _really_ is that appalling to you, then you don't have to 'play nice' with her. Is that better?"

"Somewhat," Draco grumbled. Narcissa smiled lovingly at her son. He had always been such a moody boy, and now he was a moody young man. However aggravating, because she was his mother she found him adorable nonetheless.

"Might I say one last thing on the matter?"

Draco stared at his mother and gave a long sigh. "Make it good."

"I do encourage you to reconsider. Maybe not by the time of the Christmas dinner, but for the long run perhaps? Considering our…predicament, it may be a bit hard to…well… And I know marrying later in life isn't such a horrible option, but we've always married young… I married your father when I was twenty-two, and we-"

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, Mother." Draco replied. "I'm hardly in any rush."

With that Draco politely dismissed himself from his mother's presence and left her to finish the guest list for their Christmas dinner. He couldn't help but be equally annoyed and amused by his mother's meddlesome behavior. She had been trying for the past two years to get him to settle down with someone. If not marriage at the very least seriously dating. He was thankful that the last arranged Malfoy marriage was his great-grandfather's. That, of course, didn't stop parents from strongly suggesting who their future mate should be. Divorces in pureblood society was an impossibility –not that it couldn't be done, but it was heavily frowned upon so no one did it. It was the main reason why parents had been involved in their offspring's future in the first place.

But despite his mother's eagerness, Draco wouldn't be falling for her pressures. Besides, although he had known Pansy for years he simply wasn't interested in her like that. Contrary to popular belief, he'd never even slept with her (although, to give the witch a compliment, it wasn't for a lack of trying on her part). Draco was a highly selective person, and in this regard he preferred that this side of him prevailed.

 _Of course_ , his mind decided to taunt him, _you weren't very selective when you spent not one, but_ _ **two**_ _nights with Gryffindor's princess, now were you?_

Draco could kick himself. His inner voice was still as cocky and git-worthy as ever. However, it was right. Everything about Granger had been one impulsive decision after another –none that he regretted. She was…an irresistible presence. He found himself drawn to her –even without the mask. Even now although he was miles away from her, his mind was filled of her. It didn't help that from every window he could see the snow that covered Malfoy Manor's grounds or the fact that his home held far too many libraries.

He wondered what tangible object or force of nature would be next to elicit her memory.

* * *

 **Author's note:** I know I wrote this and everything, but Ginny is hilarious to me. And I love Draco and his mother's interaction (the funny side and the...not so funny).

Reviews are most welcome! You guys have been amazing with the support, and I honestly am so thankful for it. I had no intention of making this story go so far (and I'm still not sure how much longer it'll be), but I'm really glad that I decided to continue it. Am I thanking you guys too much? Really don't want to sound like a runaway train here haha.

Happy reading!

-WP


	6. Confessional

"This isn't going to blow up, is it?" Hermione asked as she eyed the small box that George had given her. George placed a hand over his chest.

"Hermione, I'm hurt! You know I'd never give you anything that'd hurt you."

Hermione's brow rose of its own accord. "Oh, but it's okay to give me a hair beret that made my hair turn colors every fifteen minutes?"

George smiled. "It didn't hurt, did it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she laughed. "No, I suppose it didn't. However, I think I'll open this in my room to limit the danger to others."

"A wise choice," George winked, and then he walked off while whistling a tune.

Hermione shook her head at him and turned to head to her bedroom where she always stayed when visiting the Burrow. She wasn't kidding about keeping George's Christmas gift to her in her bedroom. She wasn't necessarily going to open it now, but the last time she had kept a present from him in one place for too long it had gotten up and walked away –literally.

"You're not scared of my brother's gift, are you?" Ron asked. He had spotted her as she climbed the stairs and followed after her.

"Scared? No. Wary? Highly." Hermione replied as she set the box down on her night table and placed a sticking charm on the bottom of it.

"He promised me it wouldn't bite." Ron told her. "Didn't promise _me_ the same thing though."

Ron frowned as he showed her his finger and Hermione had to place a hand over her mouth to stop the onset of giggles.

"I honestly have no sympathy for you." She said. "You should've known better."

"Yeah, I guess. But hey, since we're here, I can give you this now."

Hermione's brow furrowed as he pulled out a long black box from behind his back. She hadn't even noticed that he'd been hiding something there. "But you already gave me my present."

"I know, but I couldn't really resist."

 _There goes that word again._ Hermione thought. But it didn't have nearly the same ring, chime, or hum, as it did when it had left Draco's lips. She pushed those memories aside so that she could concentrate on the here and now. In said present Hermione was opening the box to reveal a locket. She blinked rapidly at the trinket and opened it to find two small photographs. On the one side was a photo of her and Ron when they were kids –twelve maybe –and the other, she noted a bit with dismay, of when they had gone on a trip together when they were still dating.

She loved the locket, she did, but the photos inside made her heart conflicted.

"Oh, Ron, this is…" Hermione's words trailed off. Ron was too busy slipping the necklace from her fingers and putting it around her neck to notice her hesitance.

"I have to be honest," he told her. "I've had this since January."

"January? _January?_ "

Ron nodded. "I had planned to give it to you for Valentine's Day, but then...well, you know."

"I know." She replied as her eyes travelled to the locket that now hung over her chest. "Ron, the locket is lovely, but I don't know if I can-"

"Think nothing of it." Ron said quickly. "It has a different meaning now than it did before. I know we didn't work out, but you're still my best friend, Hermione. And this was for _you_. Promise me you'll wear it?"

Hermione's chest constricted at the dilemma. Ron could say that it meant nothing. That it was just a friend giving another friend a gift. But she knew him. To wear something that symbolized a love that they once had…

"Of course I will." She said reluctantly. Ron smiled and hugged her and she hugged him back, the cool feel of the locket weighing heavily between them.

"Come on," Ron said as he pulled away. "Let's get back to the rest."

Hermione nodded and followed him out of her bedroom. When they finally made it downstairs she felt like everyone's eyes were on her. Had they noticed that Ron had gone upstairs after her? Had they noticed that they came back down –Ron's face wearing a complacent smile? It may have just been her imagination, but it sure felt like it. Her hand gravitated to the locket and her stomach turned. She needed fresh air. She needed fresh air _immediately._

Despite the cold she slipped out of the back door and into the yard. Her wand was back in her bedroom so she couldn't put up a Warming Charm. So, what was she going to do? Stand on the back porch and freeze to death? However awful, it still sounded like a better idea than to face the many Weasleys knowing that they all probably knew what this locket was supposed to mean.

"Hermione?"

"Hi, Ginny," she replied without turning around. Her body suddenly began to feel warmer and she smiled. "Thanks."

"No problem." Ginny walked forward and eyed her friend carefully. The brunette looked to be in serious distress, and it took all of five seconds for her eyes to land on the locket that her friend was fingering and she gasped.

"Oh no, Ron is an idiot!"

Hermione turned to her. "What?"

"That," she explained as she pointed to the piece of jewelry. "I told Ron _expressly_ not to give that to you. But of course he would go ahead and do something stupid anyway-"

"It's not stupid, Gin." Hermione interjected. "It's not stupid at all. It's a lovely gift, it's just…"

"Inappropriate to give." Ginny finished.

Hermione didn't want to agree, but she found herself slowly nodding as she looked down at her present. "This was meant to show that we both loved each other, but it's just not the case anymore. I feel...a bit thrown for a loop wearing it, to be honest."

Ginny frowned as she threw an arm around her. "Look at it this way. Once we're back at Hogwarts you don't have to wear it anymore."

"That would be terrible of me." Hermione said sadly. "But you know what? I'll take the more recent photo out. At least that way I can still wear the locket, but not be burdened by the fact that-"

"-My brother's still ridiculously in love with you?"

Hermione nearly groaned. "Did you _have_ to say that?"

"Sorry." Ginny tinged red. "But...he is, you know."

"I know."

"And I don't think you should wear the locket." She continued. "Especially if you're uncomfortable wearing it. Plus it might lead Ron on if you do."

"I don't want to ruin his holiday." Hermione said. "I'll wear it until it's over. And then I'll tell him that I just can't accept it."

* * *

The Christmas dinner was more than a dinner really. His mother insisted that it was a simple get-together. A small cohort of family and friends to "mingle and jingle" and then have a lovely meal. Draco, on the other hand, could smell a party from a thousand yards away, and this –with its fanciful Christmas wreaths, silver and sapphire blue streamers, the light music, and long tables of hors d'oeuvres – _this_ was a party. A soiree, if he wanted to use a more elegant term.

Guests had begun to arrive about a half an hour ago and now, about another half an hour later, Draco figured the event to be in full swing by now. He wouldn't know. He had purposefully gotten dressed late and had only just put on his last cufflink.

"Draco," a voice addressed him that he hadn't heard in months. "I've come to drag your moody arse to the festivities downstairs."

The blond turned around with his first true smile since he'd returned home from Hogwarts. "Blaise,"

Good ole Blaise. He had left England two and a half years ago for Italy to visit some extended family, got bewitched by a woman who had spilled her wine on him, got married, and hadn't left the country since. They wrote each other often enough so they didn't become awkward friends, though they had made it a point not to see each other in public. At least not for a while. The last thing they needed were the gossip mills turning that Voldemort's followers were congregating again.

"I know my mother invited you, but I didn't think you'd actually make it. How's the new job treating you?"

"The bags under my eyes are ruining this handsome face." Blaise replied with a cheeky grin. "But, hard work aside, it's going well. How's Hogwarts?"

"I've written you about Hogwarts."

"Yeah, you have, and I'm getting tired of the _I have an essay due tomorrow afternoon_ letters. Use your big words, Draco. Flesh it out a little!"

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead stuffed a hand into one of his suit jacket pockets. "It's mayhem."

"Hmm, mhmm," Blaise nodded. "Well, you were always a sucker for punishment. Anyway, let's get going. I left my wife down there to get her ear talked off by Daphne and I just _know_ she's planning my death right now."

"Is Pansy down there?"

Blaise's eyes widened. "Is _that_ why you're holding away in your room? Merlin, Draco, grow a set already."

" _Blaise_ ,"

"I mean it. It's just Pansy."

"Yes, just Pansy. The woman whom my mother is desperately trying to set me up with." Draco scowled. A smirk settled onto Blaise's lips.

"Ah, I get it. The mother of the house wants to be a grandmother already." Blaise said. He shrugged and then crossed his arms. "I mean, I suppose there are worst witches out there."

Draco looked offended. "I hope your wife rips into you when you get back there."

Blaise was smiling again. "She probably will –not that I mind. That woman has a beautiful voice when she's screaming at me in Italian."

Draco couldn't help but smile back as he took in his friend's enamored look. With a shake of his head he led the man out of his bedroom and followed the sound of frivolity until they made it to a large dining room sans the dining table. It would reappear when it was time to be served dinner.

It was as though Draco's eyes were trained to spot trouble because they landed on Pansy almost immediately. She was on the far side of the room conversing with a few of his old schoolmates _and his mother._ And of course, with his luck, his mother's son radar would go off and immediately lock eyes with him. And yes, _of course_ , she would point him out to Pansy. And, most assuredly (how could one think otherwise?), the woman would politely ditch her current company and begin making her way towards him.

"Have fun,"

Draco whipped around to Blaise with accusatory eyes. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Unlike you, _I_ have a wife to entertain." Blaise answered. "Although, you might have one sooner than you think." He added with a smirk and repeated his _have fun_ remark before disappearing into the crowd for his other half.

Draco was going throttle him for this, but he didn't have the time. Pansy was by him now and throwing her arms over him.

"Draco! It's so wonderful to see you!" She cried in his ear. He wouldn't be surprised if it bled.

"Yes, it's,-" he grunted slightly as he politely crawled out of her grip, "-nice to see you too."

"How've you been? Your mother mentioned that you went back to Hogwarts to finish your last Year."

"She did, did she?"

"Mhmm," Pansy nodded as she grabbed a glass of champagne that floated by. Draco raised his brow slightly.

 _Liquor? Before dinner? Mother, what in Merlin's name were you thinking?_

"How's the place? How're the people?"

"The school looks fine and everyone…" Draco cleared his throat. "Well, students are students, right?"

"Of course. Studying and mischief, I'm sure." Pansy said. She gave him a not-so-subtle look-over and Draco felt incredibly cheap as she did. Was anyone else seeing this? He did a quick look around as he did, but no, everyone seemed to be lost in their own little worlds. "So," she continued, "how's school been for you? Studying or _mischief?_ "

 _You've got to be kidding…_

"Studying, Pansy," he answered. "Just studying,"

 _Liar._

"Really?" Pansy said in surprise. "How noble of you. If it were me, I'd be getting into all _kinds_ of mischief."

She was smiling in what Draco could only assume to be a seductive manner. She even dared to graze his arm some. Seriously though, was _no one_ seeing this? He couldn't imagine anyone behaving in such a way. Not the Greengrass sisters (both of whom whose last names had changed by now), not Blaise's wife, not even...not even Granger. In fact she'd probably fit right in with simple semi-formal evening wear and intelligent conversation.

It was as Draco thought of her that he felt even more uncomfortable with Pansy's presence. He had to do something. _Anything_ to distract the witch. As he looked around, he finally found his answer.

"Daphne?"

Daphne turned. A gracious smile appeared as she walked over. "Draco, it's lovely to see you. Pansy! Why, I haven't seen you in ages."

"You two should catch up." Draco grinned. "I'll be back in a bit."

Pansy opened her mouth to contest, but Daphne had already opened hers and had dragged the black-haired woman into conversation. Draco had absolutely _no_ intentions of going back, and instead stole himself away out to the balcony.

 _Peace. Silence and peace. Thank Merlin-_

"So, who's the lucky woman?" Came Blaise's voice.

 _So much for silence,_ Draco thought, and he tilted his head in confusion as he turned away from the balcony's rail.

"Sorry?"

"The woman," he repeated. "You're seeing someone."

"What on earth makes you think that?"

"Other than the fact that you haven't denied it?" Blaise grinned. "I saw you out there. You were dodging Pansy like she had Dragon Pox."

Draco scowled. "You already know how I feel about her."

"I do. But it was _how_ you were dodging her that was interesting. It wasn't a _I don't want to be around her_ kind of ducking. It was more of a... _If my girlfriend catches me with this woman I'm a dead man_ kind of variety. So, who is it?"

Draco sighed. "I'm not seeing her, Blaise."

"Oh ho, but there _is_ a 'she!'"

Draco cursed.

"Come on, mate." Blaise encouraged. "Spill it."

Draco didn't _want_ to "spill it," but he knew his friend. The man wouldn't drop this so easily and would only bombard him for the rest of the night, Floo calls, and letters for his answer. Might as well get on with this train wreck.

"Remember that ball I told you about?"

"Yeah. You said it went well, nobody recognized you, and it felt good to just be free for a while. What of it?"

"Well...there might have been a bit... _more_ to the story."

Blaise's mouth dropped. " _More?_ You little git. What else was there?"

Draco took a deep breath and refused to meet his friend's eye. "I might have...slept with someone from the ball."

"You had a one-night stand?! Bleeding hell, that's my territory!"

" _Was_ your territory," Draco corrected. "Don't give Liliana a reason to kill you."

"Fine, fine, but...wow. Contrary to the rumors that wasn't your thing."

"It really wasn't. Still isn't. Especially since...it happened twice."

Blaise's jaw dropped again, but this time wider. "I can't believe it. You wait until _after_ I'm married to get interesting?"

Draco glared at him, but that only made Blaise laugh.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Sort of. Oh, Draco, this is too good. Who was it?"

"...If I tell you, you'd better swear on every bottle of wine you own that you won't tell anyone."

" _Every_ bottle?"

" _Zabini!_ "

"Okay, alright, I swear."

Draco held the railing of the balcony _hard_ before he finally let slip her name. "Granger,"

Blaise was silent. He was silent for nearly a full minute before Draco had to concede and look at him. When he did, he found him standing there with a finger on his chin and his forehead creased.

"What are you doing?"

"Going over a list in my head as to who that woman might be."

Draco nearly tore his hair out. "There's only one Granger we both know, Blaise."

"Oh yes, yes, I know, but that's just... _crazy._ " Blaise said with an inappropriate chuckle. "You really want me to stand here and believe that _you_ and _Hermione Granger_ slept together? Not once, but _twice?_ "

"That's exactly what I want you to believe."

"No way," he shook his head. "I refuse to believe it. Not that there's anything wrong with Granger –she's always been pretty in her own way. But for _her_ to sleep with _you?_ Hell, I had a better shot than you did!"

Draco shot him a cruel look, but Blaise put a set of hands of surrender.

"No need to murder me. It's just...with your history and all...I would've never thought-"

"Neither did I." Draco admitted. "The first night I could've chalked it up to the ball, you know? It was a pretty seductive night. But that second time? Not so much."

Blaise gave a low whistle. He didn't say anything more and neither did Draco. They both simply stood there out on the balcony, digesting what had been said aloud. But there was something more that Draco wanted to say. No, more like...find out. It irked him to the bone to have to ask this, but there was no one else he would turn to with this matter, nor was there anyone else who would be so frank with him.

"Blaise," Draco asked hesitantly. "How did you feel when you first met your wife?"

Blaise couldn't hide his surprise at the question. "Honestly?"

"Honestly,"

"Enchanted," he answered without thought. Draco stared at him incredulously.

"Seriously?"

"Do you want more? How about captivated? Enthralled? Head over heels-?"

"Alright, alright, enough," Draco said with a wave of his hand. "I get it. You're desperately in love with her."

Blaise chuckled. "You asked me how I felt when I first met her. That's nothing compared to how I feel about her now."

Draco's incredulous look was back. "You can't honestly tell me that you felt _all_ of that just by meeting her once."

"Considering I married her a week later should be proof enough for you."

Draco groaned as he put his head in his hands. Blaise stared at him and as he did and nudged him gently with his shoulder.

"Is this your way of breaking it to me that you're in love with Granger?"

Draco snapped his head up and looked at him. "What? No!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm _definitely_ sure. I'm not hardwired to fall in love with someone that fast."

Blaise clapped a hand on his shoulder and grinned. "How do you know if you've never done it before?"

"Blaise?" A feminine voice broke the air. Both men looked back and found Liliana standing in the doorway with a huge smile on her face. "Sorry to interrupt, but there are charmed snowmen putting on a show just outside the window! You _must_ come watch. It's absolutely delightful."

"Ah, love calls," Blaise said to Draco with a wink. He left him then to be by his wife's side while Draco went back to thinking about a certain witch.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Okay, so I just LOVE Blaise. I laughed myself silly writing the scenes with him and I really hope that you did too. Everyone needs that one friend to talk some sense into you. Blaise is that friend.

Also, this story got past the 100 mark in followers this week. *jumps around room.* Thanks a lot guys :D

Until next time,

-WP


	7. Rain

Hermione and Ginny had been among the first to get off of the Hogwarts Express when it arrived at Hogwarts. The brunette had looked around (as subtly as she tried to make it) for any spec of that infamous blond hair, but she came up empty. She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. He had gotten off the train nearly last when they had arrived in London, she could only assume that he would do the same here.

Sighing, she trudged off with Ginny on their way to the threstrals so they could head to the castle. She had been able to seem them for years now –war could certainly do that to you. They were scary things, honestly, but sweet as can be so she realized. Not that that meant she wanted to get friendly with them in the slightest.

Both women managed to wrangle a carriage to themselves and sighed contentedly as it took off. Hermione looked out the window as her hand travelled to the locket on her chest. It had become a habit of hers lately to simply handle it without reason.

There had never been a talk with Ron. Every time Hermione tried to approach him about the locket and how she felt about it, his eyes would immediately spot it, lighting up like a child in a candy store. She just couldn't do it. It was funny, too, the more she thought about it. She could go up against Deatheaters and break into Gringotts, but she couldn't tell her ex/best friend that his gift was more than she could bear?

At least she could take comfort in the fact that Ginny was right. She could simply not wear it while she was at Hogwarts. However, she wouldn't be here forever. Nor could she let Ron be hopeful forever.

"I assume you're taking that NEWTs class they're offering?" Ginny asked. Hermione pried her eyes away from the window and smiled.

"Of course I am. I thought it a wonderful idea of Professor McGonagall's. Adult students have been out of school for a long time. A little extra preparation is fantastic."

"Like _you_ need the extra preparation." The redhead laughed. Hermione beamed.

"Will you be taking it?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. I don't really need the scores to write for the Daily Prophet's Quidditch section. Although, I imagine the class could be interesting enough."

"Oh, it will be!" Hermione exclaimed happily. "Professor McGonagall said it would be set up like a study session. There'll even be hands on material and-"

"No, no, not like that! I _mean_ that you may be able to find your rendez-vous guy from the ball!"

Hermione frowned. "What?"

"Think about it. There's a good chance that he'll be there. You can, I don't know, look for any tells and see if it's him."

"Ginny, I really don't-"

"What's there to lose?" Ginny asked. "You liked him."

"I think that's fairly obvious."

"No, you _really_ liked him. I don't know what kind of charms he put on you –all possible puns aside –but he got to you. Don't think I haven't noticed you drifting off in thought with a silly little grin on your face all throughout the holiday."

Hermione blushed.

"Just think about it, alright? You used to like mysteries. Consider this one the best of them all."

* * *

Draco had gotten off the train last earlier that day with hopes of catching even the slightest glance from the brunette he couldn't stop thinking of during the holiday. She had somehow alluded him, however. And not just on the train. He couldn't find her anywhere –not that he had been actively looking for her. He just so happened to take one (or several) walks throughout the castle, glaring looks from others be damned, hoping that he might spot her somewhere. He hadn't even seen her at lunch or dinner. Was she avoiding him? Yes, that seemed about right. To have a weekend beyond amazing, spurred on by the yuletide spirit, only to be dashed by reality when the magic of Christmas was over.

That dismal notion, however, was kicked out of his brain by his conversation with Blaise out on his balcony. Well, less on what he said, and more on how he looked when his wife had come to steal him away for the snowman show. Blaise had looked so…so what? Happy seemed too much of an understatement. There were just simply no words to describe how drunk in love he was with Liliana. After an accidental meeting. And marriage in a week.

But Blaise had always been impulsive. Not necessarily to do anything stupid, but he always had this notion of grabbing life by its collar and toting it around. It was too short, he would say. Enjoy yourself, he would say. But no, no, the rigid, play by the book, stick up his arse Draco could never go for it.

And yet Granger had shifted all of that around in one weekend.

So, what was a little more shifting?

It was one a.m. Saturday now and it had taken Draco nearly an hour to write the small note. An hour after that to head to the Owlery. A half an hour to tie the note to an owl and send it off. And another half an hour berating himself because it was highly likely that Granger was asleep and his owl would go unanswered.

But what if she was awake?

What if she was awake and just didn't answer it?

So what they had a connection at a ball?

So what if they slept together twice?

That didn't mean that she would want to spend time with him just for the heck of it.

"Stupid, stupid, _stupid!_ " Draco self-admonished as he paced the grounds near the lake. He was so wrapped up in himself that he didn't even hear approaching footsteps crunching what was left of old snow.

"Do you always talk to yourself like that?"

Draco whipped himself around in Hermione's direction and nearly stumbled in the process by how quickly he'd done it. He blushed. "I…well… No, no, I don't."

Hermione smiled. "You really shouldn't. You might get worry lines."

"Right," he said bashfully as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll try to remember that."

 _He's embarrassed._ Hermione thought to herself. _He's embarrassed!_

"Hey," she began as her eyes widened in recognition. "You got new robes!"

"Oh," Draco looked down and then grinned. "Yes, I did. Well, my mother got them for me anyway. She was absolutely devastated that I'd 'lost' my old set."

Hermione laughed. "I guess that means you had a good holiday then with such nice robes as a present."

Draco's easy-going (albeit nervous) nature faltered. "It could've been better." He mumbled. "Despite being allowed to as an adult student, there's a reason I don't go home very often –if at all."

Hermione was intrigued. "Why did you go then?"

Draco shrugged. "It was the holidays. It's just the kind of thing you're expected to do."

Hermione frowned. In that one weekend she had spent with him, the current moment they were sharing, and their overall past history together, the brunette had seen many sides to Malfoy. She'd seen him at his absolute worst –personality-wise, with that awful sneer and pure arrogance laced with superiority. She'd seen him romantic, just completely wracked with sensual lust because _she_ had made him so. When she had come onto the grounds just mere minutes ago she'd seen him anxious like some school boy working up his nerves to ask the prettiest girl to the prom. But now, having brought up his home, the side of him that was a crumpled version of the Draco Malfoy she used to know –the broken side of him that she'd seen much more than she liked –that side had replaced the adorable jitters. Now she watched him as he sighed, used his wand to clear away some snow, and sat down at the lake's edge near a tree.

Hermione walked over to him. She didn't know what prompted this, but perhaps it was her insatiable need to want him to relax. There was ample space for her to sit between the tree and Draco. That was where she'd nestled herself. With her back firmly against the body of the tree, her legs stretched before her, each one on either of the blond's sides, she raised tentative hands and eventually laid them to rest on his shoulders.

Needless to say, Draco was surprised by the action. He didn't know why considering he'd been at the mercy of her touch _twice_ almost a full month ago, but this time was different. It was different because it wasn't happening in the throes of love-making. He hadn't even goaded her with his favorite word. This had been a pure, non-provoked touching. No, not just touching. It was… _soothing_. She had placed her delicate hands on his shoulders and eased him back so that he was laying against her. Not to be crude, but her breasts made _excellent_ pillows. In this position he could smell her vanilla fragrance clear as day, and it tempted him to fall deep into her aroma and succumb to sleep.

He didn't though. He became much too distracted by the hand that had slid up to his chest and neck.

"Can I ask you a question, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, her fingers gently stroking just beneath his jawline.

Draco closed his eyes and nodded. Her caressing of him was absolutely inebriating. "What is it?"

"Why did you come back to Hogwarts?"

He opened one eye. "I thought we were talking about my holiday?"

Hermione shrugged. "We were. But, if I'm to be honest, I think your answer to my latter question would give me insight to the first. Both places seem to be disagreeable to you."

Draco was silent. He let his open eye close and concentrated on her touch. On her...everything. There was a rhythm to her. Her fingertips would graze his skin above his collarbone, slowly and comfortingly making their way up his throat, under his jaw, and stopping at the base of his ear. All of this happened as she breathed in, his head rising as her chest did. And when she exhaled, well, that was his favorite part. The back of her fingers would retrace its journey, still so slow and careful and back down to his chest where the process would begin again.

"You don't have to answer if you-"

"NEWTs," Draco said. "Those scores get you into the Ministry. I don't have them so…"

"A wise decision," Hermione smiled. Draco smirked.

"Of course you'd think so. It's about education."

Hermione momentarily ceased her petting to lightly hit him. Draco laughed. She thought it sounded lovely coming from him.

" _Regardless._ You're right. Without them chances of working in the Ministry are virtually zero. Yes, it was wise. And," she paused for moment and added, "brave. It was brave, Malfoy. You…you must've known what it would've been like for you."

"I did. But I knew it would be no different than how everyone already treated me. Here simply seemed like a better prison."

Hermione's fingers stopped. "Is that what you feel like? That you're… _in a prison?_ "

"Yes," Draco admitted. "All day, every day. At least I did until I… Well, until I met you."

The comment made Hermione freeze. Draco felt it, and he eased himself off of her so that he could turn and look at her. Her facial expression matched her rigid body perfectly.

Hermione gulped lightly. "You act like we were strangers before this."

"I hardly knew you."

"You hardly know me now."

"True," Draco conceded. A wave of pride suddenly washed over him at that, and once again he felt the devil in him rise. "It's funny then," he said with a taunting and seductive smile, "the things that strangers do."

Hermione felt heat rise to her cheeks and she was sure that he noticed despite how late and how dark it was. She took up playing with her fingers to ward off her unease –however pleasurable the feeling.

"It's easy with a stranger, I suppose." She said softly. "There's no need to feel embarrassed, or afraid, or-"

"Flustered?" Draco offered. Hermione, whose eyes had been concentrating solely on her hands looked up. He was still smiling and she couldn't help but follow.

"Yes, flustered."

Draco's self-loathing and belittlement was clearly gone now, and he readjusted himself so that he could sit next to her shoulder-to-shoulder. "Tell me about your holiday, Granger."

Hermione was immensely relieved at the change in topic and dropped her hands neatly onto her lap. "I enjoyed it very much. Naturally, I got way too many presents considering there are all the Weasleys to take into account. I split my time between my parents and with them."

"What were some of the gifts?"

"Books, of course." She said happily. "A few sweaters, a pair of earrings from George that I've hidden away somewhere so I don't wear them by mistake-"

Draco furrowed his brow. "Why wouldn't you wear them?"

"Because they're from _George_."

" _And?_ "

"Owner of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"That joke shop?"

"Precisely. Anything that comes from him is likely to do some damage, so locked away it is."

Draco laughed. "Understood. What else did you get?"

"Nothing except…" Hermione's voice trailed. Her hand naturally gravitated to her neck, but the locket from Ron was another thing that was currently locked away. "A locket,"

Draco stared at her curiously as her demeanor shifted. "You didn't like it?"

"Yes and…no."

"Would you mind if I asked why?"

Hermione looked at him and found him staring at her. While this was nothing new, not to mention they _were_ talking to each other, his stare was different. It was inquisitive. Genuinely interested and perhaps concerned. She sighed.

"Ron and I used to date." Hermione explained. She would never know the sudden delight that overcame Draco at the words 'used to.' "The locket, it came from him. He said he'd had it for a while and that he'd wanted to give it to me before we ended things. Before _I_ ended things. The fact that he gave it to me now, the photos he put inside… I don't feel quite comfortable having it."

"Tell him you don't want it then." Draco said. Hermione scoffed as she shook her head.

"Do you honestly think it's that easy to tell someone you still care about that you don't want a gift he put serious thought into?"

"Still?"

Hermione blinked. Draco, quite uncharacteristically of him, blushed and let his gaze fall to the grass. He hadn't meant to say that. Out loud at least. But somehow the word had slipped out of his mouth as though his subconscious needed some sort of clarification.

"As a friend," she added softly.

"Oh,"

"L-like I said, it would be hard."

"Do you think Weasley still-?"

"I know he does."

"But _you_ don't-?"

"No,"

"Good,"

Hermione couldn't help the surprise on her face. Draco, on the other hand, was cursing himself for being unable to bridle his tongue. He couldn't possibly look at her right at this moment. What he was saying was absolutely out of proportion to their situation. They'd been intimate, fine. They had a few –emphasis on _few_ –short heartfelt conversations. But to say _that?_ She probably thought him mad. Or maybe even-

Draco's thought process had been interrupted by a hand on his cheek. Hermione coaxed him to look at her, and he immediately met those brown eyes he had first seen at the ball. Only now they didn't just belong to a mysterious woman in white. They belonged Granger. Hermione Granger. And she seemed to be struggling with what she wanted to say next.

"Good?" She finally managed to ease out.

What was it that Draco could read in her eyes? Was it…? It couldn't possibly have ben… _Hope?_ He had to test it. He did so by slowly, but purposefully letting his hand slip over hers and said, "Very good,"

Hermione's lips parted. Perhaps it was to say something. Perhaps from surprise. Draco let his eyes analyze every part of her face –in this way, hoping for the answers that this sudden silence was keeping him from. And that's when he saw it. A tear, of all things. Why in Merlin's name was she crying? What had he done? But then there was another in quite the unconventional place –her forehead.

A clap of thunder roared overhead and the rain came down in full force. Both Hermione and Draco rose to their feet, using their robes to shield themselves although it proved to be of little use. Eventually they dropped them, running together across the grounds and actually slipping and sliding as they went as the ground became muddy. One particularly bad footing made Hermione fall, and although Draco had grabbed her arm to help her, he too tumbled to the ground. When they hit, instead of grunts of pain, the pair had begun to laugh.

"What is _wrong_ with us?" Hermione said in hysterics. She was wiping her eyes from tears of joy, which, in all honesty, was pointless when they mingled in with the torrential downpour they were sitting in. "We have wands for Merlin's sake! And we thought robes could help us?"

Draco held his stomach as his laugher continued. She was right. They were complete idiots, and now their hair was plastered to their heads and face, they were sitting in mud, and, despite how good their robes were, they were still soaked down to their underwear.

Draco finally took out his wand and waved it overhead. When he did they were both protected by a shield so that the rain merely bounced off around them. Still with a smile on his face, he set his wand down and just looked up.

"Have you ever just watched the rain as it fell, Granger?" Draco asked without looking at her.

"No," she smiled at him with a small shake of her head. He turned to her then and held out his hand.

"You should."

Hermione gave him her hand and Draco pulled her close. Neither had been this close to one another for a month, and even then they had been closer. But still, they wouldn't trade this moment for anything. Hermione snuggled into him, her head resting in the crook of his neck as she gazed up at the raindrops that fell furiously. Draco's arms wrapped around her, holding onto her as though if he loosened his grip she would somehow drift away. She had done the same, her arms around his waist and locking him in place. His cheek was resting on the top of her head, and it was in this interlocked position that he found himself in that he knew Blaise had been right. Though, he wouldn't say that he loved her, but something had certainly happened between that weekend and now.

"There's nothing wrong with us." Draco said in a near whisper. Hermione didn't move, but he knew that she heard him by the tightening of her hold on him.

"And…that's good?" She asked him tentatively. Draco swallowed.

"…Only if you want it to be."

It was his turn to tighten his arms around her as he waited for her answer. He even stopped breathing for a moment as he did.

"In that case," she said carefully. "It's good. It's very good."

Draco looked down to find her staring up at him. It was he this time to initiate a kiss between them. And this time…this time it was different. Yes, the passion was still there as their lips touched and the kiss deepened within a second of their tongues meeting. Yes, the tenderness was still there as they both wiped away wet strands of hair from each other's faces. And yes, the desire was still there, even though all they did was kiss and then continue to watch the sky as the rain came down.

It was different because, this time, although it hadn't been labeled or directly said, she was his.

* * *

 **Author's note:** I know many of you were concerned about that locket, BUT it was a conversation breaker and Draco's concern over Hermione's feelings towards Ron led to some good things! See? Wasn't all bad ;).

Until next time!

-WP

P.S. Also, to answer your review **White Bishop** , interesting idea you have there :). There is a scene in my head that I plan on writing soon that would include something like that, just didn't get to it yet. It would be the perfect place to include a conversation as such. Thank you ^_^


	8. Baby Steps

The word "boyfriend" never left Hermione's lips, and the word "girlfriend" never left Draco's. Neither felt the need to define what they had –probably because they didn't quite understand what exactly _it_ was. All they knew was that they were drawn to each other and they refused to ignore the pull. Why question something when it was good?

Ginny had been right when she said that the guy from the ball might be in the NEWTs class. Luckily the redhead wasn't there to confirm it. Regardless it was hard for Hermione. Hard for her to sit in a class with him and pretend as though he didn't exist. Whatever they had was new and foreign and they didn't want anyone to know until they were sure. At least that was the lie that they told each other. Hermione didn't want anyone to know until she was ready to tell her friends herself. The last thing she needed was for them to find out through the information grapevine. Not to mention they would be furious. She would have to mentally and emotionally prepare herself for that bit of destruction. As for Draco's reasoning, it so happened to be two-fold. He didn't want Hermione's reputation to be marred by her association with him. Secondly, he didn't want the rumor mill go spitting out ridiculous lies that he had somehow brainwashed or Imperiused her into being with him.

And so, to avoid the chaos and to simply enjoy one another while things were still good, they kept their _thing_ a secret. They hid it so well that they made it past Valentine's Day –when Draco surprised her with owl-delivered sweets signed by " _A Secret Admirer_ " and dinner away from Hogwarts in a muggle restaurant just outside of London. They made it through most of March –meeting up when Ginny was preoccupied with class and pretty much at every moment when Hermione could afford to be missed. It was almost April now, almost four months since her and Draco's encounter at the ball and she felt like they could last forever. With that said, she knew that she couldn't lie to her friends forever.

Although Hermione was sure that Ginny wasn't privy to the times when she snuck away, the redhead wasn't stupid. She knew there was something different about her friend. The brunette smiled for no reason. She daydreamed often. And, quite embarrassingly, her skin shimmered frequently with the use of glamour charms to conceal Draco's lustful damage. And Draco, he had the most changes of all. He no longer walked about with his head hung low, wishing to remain invisible. That wasn't to say he fraternized with his classmates –Merlin forbid. But there was a confidence in the blond that had been missing. Hermione took pride in helping with that confidence. In fact, she took pride in him every day. He was…wonderful. An utter understatement, she knew, but if she was to explain what her heart said she'd never stop talking.

It was because of that she figured she'd broach the sensitive topic tonight. The longer they stayed together, the closer the end of the year would get, and the harder it would be to see each other without drawing attention. Might as well rip that Magical Wax off quickly.

"Explain to me why we're studying for NEWTs right now instead of making a mess of the room?" Draco asked as he looked up from his book. Hermione's amused expression couldn't be hidden, but she did hold in her laugh.

"Well, for starters, we already _did_ make a mess not more than three hours ago." She said while jetting a thumb behind her. They were in the Room of Requirement, and interestingly enough, aside from the quaint living room setting that had been there when they had first spent the night together, it had also begun adding a bedroom. Shortly after that a bathroom. If they kept using it as they did, pretty soon the whole room would turn into an apartment.

"Secondly," Hermione continued. "NEWTs are only two months away. One month since March is basically over. We _have_ to study. Especially _you_ if you really want to become an Auror."

"I don't know." Draco shrugged. "I don't really need the money. I could always live off of my wealth and embrace the title of rich, arrogant arse."

Draco dodged a flying quill and he laughed. "Alright fine, maybe not."

"Come on, Malfoy," Hermione said as she used her wand to retrieve her quill. "Be serious, will you?"

"No," he shook his head. "Not while you're only wearing _that_."

Hermione looked down at herself and tried her hardest not to blush. The only thing she was wearing was a bedsheet wrapped around her. Draco wasn't much better off considering he was only in his trousers. She sighed.

"I don't know why I insist on studying with you."

Draco nodded. "I agree. Although I can venture a guess it's because I'm much better company than the female Weasley."

Hermione tensed. Draco noticed, as he did most (if not all) things about her. He let his playful nature drop as concern filled his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong _per se_. I actually did want to talk about Ginny at some point, just not necessarily now."

"Well, we're already on the subject." Draco said as he closed his book and then reached over to close hers. "Might as well discuss it."

"Yes, I suppose…" Hermione said as she nervously rubbed her arm. Draco was staring at her expectantly, but she avoided his gaze like the plague.

 _Merlin, this is harder than I thought it'd be_. She was only going to be bringing up the idea of telling Ginny about them to avoid an even more awkward event in the future. But that meant that she thought about the future. A future _with him._ And exactly how _far_ in that future was she talking? A month after graduation? Two? Until the end of the year? A whole year?

"Granger," Draco called her name as he waved his hand in front of her face. "You alright? You look a little pale."

"What? Oh, no, I'm fine, I swear. I'm just trying, and failing miserably it seems, not to make this awkward."

Draco's face blanched. "You're ending things with me."

Hermione's eyes grew to saucers. "No! No! I'm not! Quite the opposite actually."

Draco let out a deep sigh of relief. It made Hermione smile that he would be so distressed at the thought of losing her and she let out her own sighs.

"Thanks for giving me a heart attack." Draco said as he ran a hand through his hair. Hermione laughed as she scooted her chair closer to him so that she could rest her head on his shoulder.

"Sorry. I was just nervous."

"I've gathered that. You've yet to tell me why, though."

"It's just that with NEWTs coming, so is the end of the year." Hermione began, her nerves still kicking in. "And with that there's graduation, and then…we won't be here anymore."

"So, you're saying?"

Hermione lifted her head from him so that she could look at him properly. "I'm saying that I don't want to sneak around like I'm a teenager who's grounded."

"Oh," Draco replied as understanding finally hit him. "You want to tell people about us."

Hermione frowned. "And you don't."

"It's not that I don't. It's more like we shouldn't. People won't receive us well, Granger." It was Draco's turn to frown as his head drooped some. "People won't receive _me_ well."

Hermione put a finger under his chin to raise his head up. "I thought you were done with the self-loathing."

Draco cracked a half-smile. "Apparently not."

"Change that." She ordered as she placed a chaste kiss on his lips. "And, if it makes you feel better, how about we –well, _I_ –just tell one person? Ginny, to be more precise. She suspects me of something anyway and it's probably best to let her in on things early."

Draco slowly nodded. "Fair enough. And speaking of fair, I should probably tell you that one of my friends already know about you. Blaise, to be more specific."

"Zabini?" She asked with a slightly cocked head.

"Yes. He kind of coaxed the information out of me around Christmas. In fact, when you meet him you should probably thank him. He gave me some pretty good advice about you."

Draco waited for her to say something, but Hermione merely sat there with a wide grin on her face. It was the same face she made when she was _really_ pleased about something. Usually a high mark on some exam or assignment. "What?"

" _When_ I meet him, huh?" She beamed. "Exactly how long do you plan on keeping me around, Mr. Malfoy?"

It was Draco's turn to grin. He pushed his chair even closer to hers and gently pulled her onto his lap. "For as long as you'll have me, Miss Granger," he said with his forehead resting on hers. "Can we make a mess now?"

"NEWTs," Hermione reminded him, but she was quickly opposing that option as Draco cascaded kisses, nibbles, and licks along her neck.

"Quiz me during." Draco offered as he moved to the other side of her neck. "You like challenges." He kissed just below her ear, his lips brushing her earlobe as he whispered, "Challenge me."

Pleasure.

Resist.

 _Challenge._

It seemed that every word that sent a delightful shiver up her spine was the pure definition of him and their time together. He gave her nothing but pleasure, he was hard to resist, and their time together, however long, would be challenging. Although, if he continued to make her lose her breath with their antics, gripping the bed's sheets for dear life, screaming his name loud enough so the dead could hear…

The challenge would be worth it.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Baby steps indeed. This was a bit of a calm/filler chapter. But of course, chapters such as these are usually followed by…not so calm ones.

Until next time, and happy reading everyone!

-WP :)


	9. Robes

As per Hermione's prodding, Draco sat in the library alone in order to study for the upcoming NEWTs exam. It was in one month and, although he would _never_ admit this to her, she was right. He really did need to study if he wanted to become an Auror.

It was difficult though. He couldn't recall Linky's Principles for Advanced Transfiguration without becoming aroused. It was completely the fault of a pretty brunette whose moan he could play back in his head, pitch for pitch, as he recited Linky's Principles beneath his breath.

"' _Linky's Principles state-'_ "

Hermione's back arched as a moan escaped her, Draco's tongue having just given himself (and her) the work out of his life.

"' _-that advanced transfiguration can only be performed-'_ "

Her delectable cry hit his ears hard as he slipped himself inside of her and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him in even closer.

"' _-if the object in question-'_ "

A contented groan accompanied by a wicked tone as she whispered to him, "My turn," and effortlessly turned them over so that she was on top and could give _his_ body the work out of the century.

Draco suddenly snapped his book shut and put his head in his hands. "Bleeding hell, I need a cold shower." He mumbled to himself. There'd be no studying tonight. None. Ever again. At least not about transfiguration.

He forced himself to think about repugnant things like messy bathrooms and ogres before finally putting his books away and standing up. His rucksack was slung over his shoulder, a book in hand, and he grabbed his robes from the back of his chair. Although it was now April there was honestly no need for them, but the school did still have its cool spots and he _hated_ being cold. Although that somehow didn't stop him from spending time outdoors with Hermione at late hours.

Draco chuckled, turned on his heel, and began heading out of the library. He had rounded a bookshelf and was on his way to the exit when his body collided with something. Well, _someone_.

"Oof!" Ginny grunted as she fell back. She looked up and saw who she had bumped into and her face instantly set up into a scowl. "Watch where you're going, Malfoy!"

Draco stared down at her with his brows raised. "You should do the same."

Ginny opened her mouth to say some snappy remark, but was struck speechless when she saw that he had stretched out his hand to help her up. She regrettably pushed aside her pride and gave him her hand. As he pulled her to her feet she got a good glimpse of what he was holding. There was a book, for one. But aside from that he also had a set of robes. A set of very _familiar_ robes. But she wasn't sure until she caught the tail-end of the name on the collar.

Ginny blinked. Once, then twice, then three more times.

Draco cocked his hide to a side. "Something in your eye, Weasley?"

"What? Oh, no, no…" She cleared her throat as she tentatively pointed to his robes. "Those wouldn't happen to be designed by Roman Olivier, would they?"

Draco glanced down at his robes once before looking back at her. He smiled. "Well-spotted,"

Ginny watched as he walked away and her heart sped up to epic proportions. He couldn't be. He just… _couldn't be._ It had been months since Hermione's moment of "letting her guard down," but that didn't mean that she had stopped trying to figure out who had finally loosened her friend's knickers –pun completely intended. She was nosy and gossipy. She could admit that. Not to mention that she was just ecstatic that her friend was happy –even just for a weekend.

But it wasn't just the weekend, was it? Hermione had been oddly content lately, but Ginny didn't think it had anything to do with her mystery guy from the ball –or at least she hoped. Her friend wouldn't lie to her about knowing who he was, would she? About seeing him even now?

 _She would if it was Malfoy._

But Malfoy? _Malfoy?_ How in Merlin's name could it be _Malfoy?_

 _He has the same robes._

But it's Malfoy!

 _He's been acting odd too._

But it's _Malfoy!_

"Ginny?"

Ginny turned around to find Hermione behind her. They had planned to meet up here to get a bit of studying done before dinner. The redhead gulped, hoping she didn't notice and forced a smile onto her face.

"Hey, Hermione. L-let's go find a table."

Hermione frowned. "Are you okay?"

"Who, me? Of course! Let's go."

Hermione followed behind Ginny as they tried to find a free space. When they did Hermione immediately grabbed one of her books for her NEWTs exam and got right down to it. Ginny, on the other hand, just sat there, staring, running through all the other alternate possibilities that weren't really possibilities. When she couldn't think of any, and her brain finally forced her to see the truth, her stomach churned.

"You slept with Malfoy."

Hermione hurt her neck with how fast she looked up at Ginny. "What?"

"I bumped into him on my way here." Ginny explained. "He had robes in his hand. The _same_ ones that your mystery guy gave you over Christmas."

"Oh,"

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "You don't seem so surprised."

"Well… I…" Hermione could feel her mouth going incredibly dry as she spoke –well, _tried_ to speak. Ginny cheeks were turning as red as her hair and Hermione sighed as she closed her book. "Ginny,-"

"Oh…my…Merlin," Ginny said, her eyes no longer narrow but as wide as naturally possible. "You slept with Malfoy. And you _knew!_ You said you didn't know who it was!"

"I didn't!" Hermione argued in a whispered shout. "At least, not at first, no."

"Why did you lie?"

Hermione frowned, guilt filling her instantly. "Why? Look at you, Ginny. You're absolutely furious-"

"Because you _lied_. Not because of who you slept with." Ginny sighed. "How could I be mad at that? You didn't know who you were sleeping with at the time. Unless…" She took a deep breath, glancing once at the table before looking back up at Hermione. "Unless you've been seeing him since then?"

Hermione was silent. Ginny's heart stopped.

"Ginny, listen-"

"I can't believe you!" She shouted as she rose from her seat. Hermione scooted back loudly in hers and regrettably added to the noise that were attracting several nosy ears. "First you hide the fact that you're dating someone-!"

"Ginny!"

"-Second, the person you're dating is _Malfoy!_ "

"Ginny! Will you keep your voice down? We're in a library!"

"I will _not_ lower my voice! You're willingly sleeping with a Deatheater!"

* * *

 _You're willingly sleeping with a Deatheater!_

Those were the words that Draco heard, clear as day, as he entered the library. He'd been halfway to Slytherin House when he realized that the book in his hand belonged on the school's library shelves and wasn't his own. He had turned around then to properly return it. He had no idea that he'd be walking into a warzone as he heard those words in a shrill voice going so far as to echo off the walls in the hall.

He walked in, completely oblivious to everyone who was there since they were focused on the two women who had gathered their attention.

" _Was_ a Deatheater, Ginny," Hermione argued with her. "Harry spoke on his behalf, remember?"

Ginny huffed. "Oh yeah, I remember. And you and I both know that Harry only did it because he felt he owed him one."

"That's not the point!"

"You're right! The point is that you're having sex with-!"

"Don't you dare say that out loud again."

"Why?" Ginny snorted. "Because you're ashamed of it?"

Hermione's nostrils flared. "I'm not ashamed of _anything_ I've done. You're not to repeat what you said because this is neither the time nor the place! And quite frankly what I do with _my_ life has nothing to do with you."

Ginny blinked in surprise. Hermione's words were fighting ones, she knew, but she had meant them. The redhead hurriedly grabbed her things and stormed out of the library. Hermione closed her eyes and plopped back down in her seat with her head in her hands. Ginny had gone, but the onlookers hadn't. She could hear them.

 _Did you hear?_

 _Yeah, that's what she said._

 _Deatheater._

 _Malfoy._

 _ **The**_ _Hermione Granger with Draco_ _ **Malfoy?**_

 _Has she lost her marbles?_

 _I bet he Imperiused her._

Hermione almost forgot the sanctity of the library and screamed at them all until she felt someone sit down across from her. She didn't have to look up to know who had, and didn't fight it when she felt her hands being peeled away from her face and taken in his.

"Are you sure you don't regret anything?" Draco asked as he subtly motioned to the small crowd with his eyes.

Hermione chuckled. "You heard all of that, did you?"

"Weasley's got a big mouth, yes."

Draco suffered a slap on the hand, but Hermione placed hers back in his when she was through.

"Tell me," he said before sending a snarl at whoever was still lurking. "Why did you think it was a good idea to tell her here? Did you think she would keep her rage quiet just because she was in a library?"

"I wasn't planning on telling her at all. We were honestly just here to study."

"So how did-?"

"She said that she bumped into you." Hermione explained. "That she saw your robes and recognized them as the ones I had."

"Huh," Draco said as he replayed his and Ginny's encounter in his head. "And I just thought she had a good eye."

" _Too_ good of an eye."

They sat there, under the scrutiny of passersby who were making a poor effort to conceal their nosiness by "putting away a book" quietly. Neither Draco nor Hermione cared. Enough ears had heard. Draco continued to hold Hermione's hands and she let him despite the incessant murmurs going on around them.

"You didn't answer the question."

Hermione, who had been focusing on their hand-holding, looked up in confusion. "What question?"

"I asked if you were sure you didn't regret anything."

Hermione could see the concern in his face and hear it in his voice. The need to soothe him was overwhelming and so she leaned across the table and kissed him. The gasps from behind bookshelves were priceless.

"Nothing," Hermione replied as she sat back down. "Absolutely nothing,"

* * *

 **Author's note:** And the cat's out of the bag! Ginny certainly wasn't happy about it, although I think my words are a _huge_ understatement.

Also, thanks to where thanks is due: this story made it to 100+ reviews since my last chapter. Amazing! The support is much appreciated! :D

-WP


	10. Intrusion

Draco had spent three years and then some under harsh gazes and loud whispers following him. Hermione had spent two weeks under such pressures and now she had a deeper appreciation of his strength.

He had been right. People did _not_ receive them well. Hermione found people staring at her often. Many gave her disapproving looks as she passed. Someone had even dared to approach her and ask in a whisper, "If you need help, just let me know."

Draco wasn't faring much better. In fact, just as he had predicted, he had people accusing him of foul play. He had gotten cornered shortly after Ginny's outburst in the library and had been demanded to tell his attacker what he'd done to her. Much to Hermione's pleasure, he hadn't reacted. He hadn't pulled out his wand. He hadn't even slurred an insult. He had merely stared him down, daring for him to make a move. She couldn't have been happier for that well-perfected Malfoy sneer and sinister disposition.

As for Ginny, she was perhaps the hardest obstacle to face through all of this. It was absolutely nerve-wracking sharing a room with someone who wasn't speaking to you. The maneuvering around so as to avoid each other. The obvious tactics to avoid one another's gaze. And then when they _had_ to speak to each other? The crispness of Ginny's voice ate at Hermione's heart something wicked.

When two weeks approached three the brunette decided that this simply couldn't go on. Ginny had made it a habit to come back to their room late when Hermione was sure to be asleep. This time she came back and found her friend wide awake, sitting on _her_ bed rather than her own. Ginny scowled.

"What are you doing?"

"We need to talk, Ginny."

Ginny crossed her arms. "We've talked enough."

"No, we've _yelled_ enough." Hermione countered. She sighed as she stood and anxiously wrung her hands together. "I don't want to fight with you. And I'm not asking you to forgive me either –at least not for everything."

Ginny watched her as Hermione went to sit on her own bed.

"Sit? Please?"

There was this saddened, embarrassed, pitiful look about her that Ginny just couldn't ignore. Against her better judgement she did sit, but kept her angry pose with her arms.

"I'm not going to apologize for seeing Malfoy,-"

Ginny snorted.

"-but I _will_ apologize for lying to you about it." Hermione continued. "I shouldn't have, but Malfoy convinced me that it was for the best. At least for the meantime."

"See? Even he thinks the two of you together are a disaster."

"He thinks we'll have trouble, not that we're a disaster."

Ginny bit her bottom lip as her arms finally fell at her sides. "Then why go through it? Why put yourself through all of that _especially_ when you broke off a relationship with a stable guy last year?"

Hermione leaned back in surprise. "I thought you said you were okay with what happened with me and Ron. That you understood?"

"I did! I mean, I do, but…to know that you and Malfoy have been… _together_ , it's just… I don't understand the attraction. How could you possibly go from a Grade A citizen to an utter failure of a human being?"

"Because that 'utter failure of a human being' was left behind when he walked away from the war. Malfoy isn't who he used to be. That mystery guy from the ball? The one that I gushed over? _That's_ who he is and who he's been ever since that night I was with him."

Ginny took a deep breath and ran her hands up her arms. "I don't know about this, Hermione. This could end very badly for you. You say he's a good person; and I guess I have to trust you on that because you never do anything without thinking it through. But that doesn't change the fact that he's got friends and family who hate you and who hate people like you. His reputation might ruin yours simply because of who he is. Is Malfoy really worth all of that?"

Hermione nodded. "He is."

The room got quiet then. Ginny was staring at her feet while Hermione was staring right at her. Seconds turned to minutes. Several _long_ minutes. The silence was becoming unbearable the longer it went on and Hermione just had to open her mouth before she went crazy.

"Ginny," she began. "Please say something."

The redhead parted her lips.

Hermione held her breath.

Ginny spoke.

"The sex must be better than you described."

Hermione blinked. Ginny sat there, a small mischievous smirk on her face. Hermione laughed. She laughed hard and she laughed loudly as Ginny got up and wrapped her arms around her to give her a hug.

"I'm still mad at you."

"I know."

"So you owe me."

"Name it."

Ginny pulled back from her and widened her smirk into a full grin. "Details. Right now."

* * *

The next two weeks were a stark contrast compared to the other two. Yes, people were still looking at her funny. Yes, there were still whispers. But at least Ginny was talking to her again. It made things just that much more bearable. What topped it off was that Ginny hadn't tried to tell neither Harry nor Ron what had happened. "Tried" because Harry was currently on assignment somewhere undisclosed where owls may be hard to reach. As for Ron, no matter how angry Ginny had been at Hermione for keeping her in the dark, there was no way she could unleash her brother on her like that. The brunette had counted that as a blessing and was thanking her lucky stars at that.

Although, she still feared that a mob would somehow form on the Hogwarts grounds demanding Draco's head on a platter. Surely the students here had gossiped through letters to people outside of the school, hadn't they? Surely there was some word on the "monstrosity" that was happening on the historic school's property?

Ginny had helped to soothe her fears on that one. With her connections to the Daily Prophet she ensured Hermione that the only reason no atrocious articles had been written was because Rita Skeeter –the _bug_ that she was –and other reporters like her now knew better than to sprout stories based off of rumors. Especially if they wanted to avoid any backlash from the defamed subjects of their writing, or worse, a Ministry reprimand. And who could deny that the relationship of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy sounded nothing short of a fable?

Hermione was adding the turnout to her lit of blessings.

And then there were NEWTs. Last week she had finally taken them along with Draco and other students. The exam had been challenging, she had to admit, but as she read over her scores that came back in record time, she was grinning from ear to ear.

"All Outstandings!" Hermione announced merrily as she walked out to meet Draco on the grounds. "I have to admit, I was a bit nervous there. I could've sworn I would've only gotten an Exceeds Expectations in Advanced Arithmacy. What about you?"

Draco didn't say anything. He just handed her his letter and continued to stare at the grass. Hermione began to frown. How could she have been so oblivious? Here she was, yammering away about how well she did on her NEWTs and she completely missed the signs. His slumped shoulders, his creased brow, his clasped lips. Merlin, this was terrible.

Hermione took a deep breath as she brought her eyes to his scores.

"Wait a minute…" she breathed as her heartrate accelerated. "Advanced Potion Making, Outstanding…Upper Level Charms, Exceeds Expectations…Advanced Transfiguration, Outstanding… Malfoy, this is amazing! You arse, you made me think you did horribly!"

Draco smiled broadly as he stood and took Hermione in his arms. "Well, of course. That was the point."

Hermione laughed as she hugged him. "Honestly, Malfoy, this is exceptional. And fantastic job with Advanced Transfiguration considering you hardly touched the book to study for it."

Draco fought the rouge in his cheeks. He had meant what he said about never studying transfiguration ever again.

"The Auror Training Program doesn't begin until July, but you should put in your application as soon as possible." Hermione said as their hug ended and she gave him back his NEWTs results. "Do you know which Division you want to specialize in?"

Draco fidgeted. "One, although I'm not sure how that one might blow over."

Hermione's curiosity was piqued. "Which one?"

"…Dark Arts Division…"

"Oh," Hermione said quietly. No, that might not blow over well at all, would it? The Malfoy name alone made people hesitate. But to put both it and the Dark Arts together? It was a potential recipe for disaster.

"It's a bad idea, I know." Draco said, reading it all over her face. "But I know a bit too much on the subject and I figured…you know…that I'd might as well put it to good use."

Hermione slowly nodded. "I can understand that. And it's not a bad idea. Risky, perhaps, but not bad."

"Risky because the Ministry will turn me away?"

"Risky because people tend to be such a gossipy bunch. As for the Ministry, they can't turn you away because your scores are exactly what the Auror Department requires of every trainee."

"And when they learn of what Division I want? What? They'll welcome me with cookies and a hug?"

Hermione laughed a little. "I wouldn't say _that_ , but Auror Training is two-fold. The general training is the whole month of July, while divisional training is in August. You'll make it into general training long before they find out your choice of Division. And when they do," she added quickly before Draco could interrupt, "they can't stop you from continuing."

"Such faith in your precious Ministry, I see." Draco said with a reluctant sigh. Hermione nodded as she closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I helped rebuild that Ministry. I have faith in every facet of it. And besides, if it somehow doesn't work out, the position of rich, arrogant arse is still available, isn't it?"

Draco smirked. "And you'd be okay with that?"

"So long as the negatives are at a bare minimum, yes."

"They'll be a zero when I'm with you." Draco promised. He rested his forehead against hers as he so often did. And then he got lost. Lost in the way her fingers grazed the back of his neck. In the way she smelled of vanilla. In the way she tickled his lips with her breath just before she leaned up to kiss him. She was addicting, to say the least, and the best drug he could ever lose himself to.

"What the hell?"

Draco felt Hermione stiffen in his arms. He himself lifted his lips away from hers so that he could see over her head.

His sneer was automatic.

"Weasley,"

* * *

 **Author's note:** And the drama continues! At least Hermione and Ginny are on good terms again. But now Ron's seen them first hand. Yeah…not good.

I'd like to take this time to thank **Neakco** so very much for bringing up the idea of Ron visiting. I had had a different vision in mind, but this worked out better :). I'd also like to thank **SmileSimplify** bringing up the power of the information grapevine and newspapers finding out. I do have something of that nature planned out, but I didn't want it to happen now, hence reporters being more careful with rumors that they hear :).

Also, please do me (and yourselves) a favor and check out **LightofEvolution's** High on Magic. If you want an interesting and different take on Dramione then please give it a shot :D

Thanks for reading guys!

-WP


	11. Shouting Match

Hermione didn't turn around right away. Part of the reason was because Draco's hold on her had magnified times ten. The other reason was that she was frozen to the spot, in utter disbelief that this was actually happening. Eventually she did manage to twist her body some so she could see Harry, obviously back from his assignment, and Ron standing not too far off and watching with shock and rage, respectively. Ginny was next to them sporting all sorts of shame. No, not shame, apologies? She mouthed the words, _they saw the note_ , and Hermione understood. She hadn't said anything. Her friends had seen the note she'd left for Ginny saying that she would be out on the grounds. They had obviously gone to meet her here with Ginny in tow.

" _What_ is going on here?" Ron said, his ears matching the shade of his hair. He took one step forward and raised an angry, shaking finger at them –well, at Draco in particular. "You get your hands off of her."

"Ron," Ginny said from behind her brother.

Draco scoffed. "And if I don't?"

"Malfoy," Hermione said as she turned to look at him. Draco only looked at her because of how desperate her voice sounded. Her voice, her eyes, everything about her pleaded him not to do anything he might regret. And yes, she was the only reason he hadn't yet stormed over and pummeled the man to the ground.

Draco closed his eyes briefly and sighed. "I'll go."

"What?" Hermione frowned. "I didn't ask you to go. You don't have to-"

"Yes, I do." Draco contradicted. "If I don't, I'm going to do or say something you're _really_ not going to like. I'd rather prefer to stay on your good side."

That, however, didn't stop Draco from kissing her in front of them. A quick kiss. No tongue. But it was sufficient to further bewilder Harry and to enrage Ron to epic proportions.

"Gentlemen," Draco smirked before walking off, giving a nod to them and then to Ginny as he went. "Lady,"

"I'm really sorry, Hermione." Ginny said immediately once he was gone. "I tried-"

"Tried to do _what_ exactly?" Ron rounded on his sister. "You knew she was out here with that…that… _that prick?_ "

Hermione's anger flared. "Don't call him that."

Ron turned back to her. "Are you serious? You're going to defend him? Why?"

"I think the fact that you just walked in on Malfoy and I kissing each other kind of explains that."

Harry's face blanched. "Please tell me he Imperiused you."

"He did not!"

Ron snorted. "Are you sure?"

Hermione balled her fists and stopped her foot like a child. "Yes, I'm sure! Merlin, how can you both be so juvenile about this?"

Harry swallowed. "I don't think juvenile is the right word. It's just that-"

"It's bloody Malfoy!" Ron shouted. "There's no way you'd be anywhere near him willingly!"

Hermione groaned in frustration. "If you'd stop yelling for a moment and just let me explain-"

"Are you actually dating? When did this start?" Ron continued. "This week? Last week? _Last month?_ _ **Longer?**_ Have you…? _Have you slept with him?!_ "

"Ron," both Ginny and Harry addressed, but he wasn't listening.

"Ron," Hermione said, trying her best to rein in her frustration. "We shouldn't be talking about this here. So, please, let's just-"

"Answer me, Hermione."

"I won't. Not until you calm down-"

"Answer me right now!"

"No!"

"Hermione!"

"Ron!" Harry called his name.

"Ron, you cut this out right now!" Ginny admonished.

"No!" Ron shouted at them both. "Not until she-!"

"Will you all just be quiet?!" Hermione screamed at them. So much for keeping her rage on a leash. Now she was just as uncontrollable as Ron as she stormed over to him with her hands on her hips. "You want to know everything? Fine! I'm dating Draco Malfoy! Since January! And, by consequence, means that I've slept with him! Not once, not even twice! _Several times!_ The first time was here on the Hogwarts grounds, if you'll believe it! Right on the snow! And the second time was in the library –in the restricted section no less! And on top of a table! It was the wobbliest table we could've possibly found, but it held up pretty well considering our antics. I can't even begin to describe all the times after! And you want to know what else, Ron? It's the best damn sex I've ever had in my life! Twenty out of ten! Twenty. Out of. _Ten._ "

The moment Hermione stopped speaking she regretted every word she said. It was all true, but the way Ron was looking at her made a swell of guilt envelop her instantly.

"Oh, Ron," Hermione frowned. "I shouldn't have said-"

"It's fine." Ron said softly, his entire composure having deflated with each word she spoke. "I did want answers, didn't I?"

Hermione sighed. "You did, yes. But the way I said it… I shouldn't have-"

"Can I just ask one thing?"

"…What is it?"

"Your locket," he said, pointing to her neck. "Was he the reason you stopped wearing it? Or did you stop before?"

Hermione felt her heart break for him as he asked the question. She felt it break even more when she told him that it was before. And as he walked away she wondered if he would have been more or less upset if Draco had been the reason.

"Hermione?" Ginny said. Hermione looked at her. She hadn't even realized that Harry had gone after Ron and that they were the only two left out on the grounds.

"Oh, Ginny, I'm so sorry. What I said to Ron… I really shouldn't have. It was totally unacceptable."

"It's alright, I understand. You were upset."

"Being upset isn't an excuse." Hermione self-scolded. " _I'm_ supposed to be the level-headed one. I shouldn't have let my anger get the best of me."

"But it did." Ginny told her. "And you can't go back and change that now. You're just going to have deal with the consequences at hand."

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms. "You make that sound easy."

"Didn't say it would be. But hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Gin. What is it?"

Ginny was hesitant at first, but got it out after a deep breath. "I wasn't nearly as bad as Ron, was I?"

Hermione chuckled. "You were pretty close."

Ginny gave a mock shiver. "Can I ask you something else?"

"Go for it."

"Twenty out of ten?"

Hermione laughed. "Yes. Twenty out of ten."

Ginny grinned and put a comforting arm over the brunette's shoulders. "Oh yes, definitely better than you described."

"How exactly did you describe it?" Came Draco's voice as the two women entered the castle. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise while Ginny's face flushed terribly.

"Um," Ginny cleared her throat. "I'm going to find Harry and my brother. Hermione, I'll see you later. Malfoy,"

"Miss Weasley,"

Hermione tried to hide her smile as she watched Ginny walk away in embarrassment. She then turned to Draco who was wearing his own smile.

"Are you going to answer the question?"

"Later," Hermione promised with a shy grin. "I thought you had left?"

"Did you really think I was going to head to the other side of the castle while Weasley was foaming at the mouth?" Draco said as he gestured to the grounds. "I just couldn't be in front of the man without hexing him. I had to…you know…make sure you were okay. Are you?"

"I could be better." Hermione replied honestly. "I didn't want them to find out this way."

"You mean you didn't want _him_ to find out this way. Potter looked a lot less concerned with the matter. Surprisingly,"

Hermione nodded. "I have to go talk to him. Do you mind?"

"Yes," Draco told her. "But I don't have much of a choice do I?" He sighed as he pulled her close. "Just…don't tell me what happens, alright? I might end up hexing Weasley anyway."

"Deal," Hermione said, being sure to kiss him hard enough to make him miss her. The lustful expression on his face was proof that she'd done well.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Well, Ron was…well, _Ron._ You have to commend Draco though (*claps all around*) for keeping himself from hexing Ron into oblivion. And then there's Hermione... She certainly said a few things huh?

Thanks for reading everyone! :D

-WP


	12. Heart to Hearts

Hermione must've torn the castle apart looking for Ron. For someone who was supposed to be the brightest witch of her age, it didn't occur to her to look in the Gryffindor Common Room. Perhaps she had known deep down that that's where he'd be. She just didn't want to face him. What could she possibly have to say to him? That she regretted dating Malfoy? Not one bit. That none of what she had told him was true? None of it was a lie. Ron had gotten a harsh slap in the face by reality and that, yes, was what Hermione was sorry for. That he had an enormous tree fall on him instead of just a leaf or a twig.

"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked once she approached Ginny and Harry. Surprisingly the Common Room was empty. She wouldn't be surprised if Ginny had had something to do with clearing it out.

"He left." Harry said.

"We tried to get him to stay but…" Ginny sighed. "Well, you know my brother."

Hermione frowned and nodded. "Yes, I know your brother. Ginny," she began to horribly pick at her fingers. "Do you mind if I talk to Harry alone?"

"Not at all,"

Ginny left them. It was quiet in the room and Hermione honestly had no idea where to start as she sat down across from him. At least he wasn't raging.

"I hope you're not mad at Ginny for not telling you."

"Why would I be?" Harry asked. "It wasn't her secret to tell. _You_ should've told me."

"I know." Hermione quickly agreed. "But can you at least see why I didn't?"

Harry didn't look at her. He did nod, though.

"And I _was_ going to tell you. Ron too. It's just… It's _Malfoy_ , Harry. _Draco_ _ **Malfoy**_. What we have is…is strange and unconceivable and-"

"World-shattering?" Harry offered. "Because your… _whatever_ it is you have with him _is_ that, Hermione. I know that you're a grown woman and you can do what you want, but he was a Deatheater. Charges against him dropped or not, that's what people are going to see him as. He could ruin you."

"Or I could make him better." Hermione countered. "My reputation is just as strong as his. It can go both ways, Harry."

"That's not what this is, is it?" Harry questioned suddenly. "You're not with him out of _pity_ are you?"

Hermione gasped. "How could you even think that?"

"Because it's like you said. It's Draco _Malfoy_. You couldn't have just woken up one day and decided to pursue a relationship with him."

"Well, of course not. No one wakes up one day and decides to make someone their lover."

Harry cringed.

"But I do care about him." She continued. "About what he's been going through, his feelings, and all of the negative backlash since the war. It…hurts me to see him down on himself, and maybe yes, I do take pride in helping him rise from that, but it's not all. I know it's not because I fell for him before I even really knew him. Everything else after that was just…the toppings, I suppose, for lack of a better term."

Harry was astounded by her words. She sounded so genuine. So sure. So much like…how she used to talk about Ron.

He looked away. "Hermione-"

"I'm not marrying him, Harry."

He snapped his eyes to her. "Merlin, he didn't ask-?"

"No. I'm only saying that we've only been _a thing_ for a short while. Can we just take this one day at a time? Please?"

"You mean me."

"Sorry?" Hermione furrowed her brow.

"You mean can _I_ take this one day at a time." Harry clarified. "Because we both know that you don't think in days. You plan for weeks, months, _years_ ahead. It's one of the defining traits about you." He added with a chuckle. "You wouldn't be with him if you didn't see anything there."

"I hope you keep that in mind." She told him. "Maybe then you'll trust my judgment about him."

* * *

Draco wasn't the consoling type. It wasn't that he didn't like doing it (although no one could persuade him into thinking that it was a pleasant experience), but it was just that he wasn't sure how to do it, or if he was doing it right. Granger hadn't taken Weasley's dismissal of her very well and she moped constantly. Yes, of course she told him that she was okay and that she was fine, but he hadn't stayed alive during the war by being so oblivious. Nor stupid. It had hurt her. Deeply. And although he was supposed to be _her_ pillar of strength at the moment, he couldn't help but feel weak.

Was it natural to feel such pain when your friend was mad at you? Draco felt that the answer should be no, and his mind went wild at the thought. Could it be possible that Granger felt so strongly about this because she cared more for the git than she had originally told him? Or maybe she just hadn't realized that her feelings for him had _not_ , indeed, fizzled out. Maybe she realized that she still loved him…

"You're grinding your teeth, Malfoy."

Draco immediately stopped the action he hadn't noticed he'd been engaged in and then frowned. His mouth hurt. And on cue he felt Hermione's lips kiss his under his jaw –soft, sweet lips dulling away the ache. He closed his eyes and let her snuggle even closer to him.

They were in his bedroom.

It was a cold day in hell –several, as a matter of fact, seeing as she'd been spending occasional nights there ever since their _thing_ had gotten leaked in the library. It was better than sneaking around in the Room of Requirement like they were ashamed. Although they did think it best for her to come and go when the other Slytherins were sure to be asleep. Why walk into a warzone when there was no need?

"First you nearly break your jaw, now you're squeezing the life out of me." Hermione said as she looked up at Draco. "What's wrong?"

Draco swallowed as he loosened his hold on her. "Nothing."

"So much for the theories that Malfoys are good liars."

He couldn't help his smirk. "We are. It's just somehow I can't lie to _you_."

"So why try?" She asked sadly.

 _Why try indeed…_

Draco took a deep breath and stared into her eyes. She was worried. He didn't just see it. He could feel the tension in her body and the way that she clung to him. He regretted his words before he even could say them.

"Do you still love Weasley?"

Hermione bolted upright. The look on her face was a mixture of an infinite amount of emotions. The sadness was still there. But now there was anger. Perhaps she also felt appalled? In sum, she was _not_ pleased and Draco wished he had his hands on a Time-Turner.

"How on earth could you ask me something like that?" Hermione demanded. Draco sat up just the same and used his wand to light the room. Big mistake considering now he could see how furious she really was. "Answer me."

"I'm sorry." Draco apologized. "I shouldn't have said anything. I-"

"Well, it's a bit late for that isn't it?" She scowled viciously. "How could you honestly ask me that? Back in January I told you what I felt for Ron _and I meant it._ "

"I know that you did, I really do. But you haven't seen yourself these last few days. The way you've been moping around, hardly eating, hardly doing…anything. All because your friend is upset with you?"

" _Yes_ , because my friend is upset with me. _My_ _ **friend**_. Don't go making wild assumptions about me just because you don't understand what a true friendship is like."

Those words were very much like a slap in the face to Draco. Hermione felt it. That was the second time in a week she'd something out of line and already she could see his resolve crumbling even more than it already had.

"Oh Merlin…" Hermione said as she reached out to touch him. He flinched. "I didn't mean that. I shouldn't have said-"

"It's a bit late for that isn't it?" Draco sneered at her. Hermione shrunk back. It had been a long time since anything resembling something so sinister had been directed at her. She almost felt afraid.

Almost.

Instead she ignored any flinching of his and pulled him into a hug. She held him tight, one arm around his back and the other around his neck to lock him in place. She held him for Merlin only knew how long until Draco's arms had wrapped around her. She sighed a breath of relief when he did and then spoke in his ear.

"I'm very close to my friends, Malfoy. My actions may seem a bit outlandish to you, but think about it. Think about Zabini, and I'm sure you have other friends too. How would you feel if any one of them were mad at you?"

Draco couldn't think about any of his other friends. The only person he could think about was Blaise, and he didn't get mad. The man was too happy-go-lucky to be mad at anyone. So to think of him like that, upset with _him_ , it didn't sit too well with his conscience. It even made his chest hurt.

Draco pulled away from Hermione slowly so that he could catch her gaze as he conceded. "You're right, and I'm sorry. Again,"

"I'm sorry too. But you listen to me good, Draco Malfoy," Hermione said sternly. "If you ever accuse me of loving Ron or _anyone else_ again, you'll find yourself getting fed to the giant squid in the lake."

Draco laughed as he kissed her forehead. "Yes, Miss Granger." He kissed her nose, "I will never," he kissed her cheek, " _Ever_ ," he kissed along her throat, his tongue trailing as he went, "Accuse you," he gently lay her down, "Of loving Weasley or anyone else."

Draco was on top of her now, and Hermione automatically closed her eyes as she felt him nestle himself between her. How convenient it was, really, that they both wore so little to bed these days. He bent his head low to capture her lips, kissing her once before he said, "I promise."

There it went.

 _Promise._

Another word to add to Hermione's pleasure vocabulary. Of course it would be the latter end of the word to appease the brunette as its tail-end slipped past his lips and onto hers.

And she had to admit, she never thought that the hiss of a Slytherin would taste so good.

* * *

 **Author's note:** At least Harry's not jumping down Hermione's throat about Draco, so there's that :). And, of course, there's nothing like a few encouraging words and a threat to be fed to a giant squid to get yourself back on track.

Also, a HUGE thanks to everyone who's been reading my story. It went past 200 follows since the last chapter and it couldn't have been done without you :D

Until next time!

-WP


	13. Graduation

Graduation day.

It wasn't until this moment that Draco thought that he would be graduating from Hogwarts. Everything had been on the proper trajectory until Voldemort had come into the picture. When that happened, all daydreams about his future had crashed and burned.

And now they were alive again.

His mother couldn't be here, obviously, but both Blaise and Liliana had made the trip to Hogwarts and had been in the seats that replaced the large, long tables in the Great Hall. It shamed him to say, but Draco had been slightly jealous of his best mate. He had been implicated in Voldemort-related antics just the same as him, but he hardly suffered such harsh scrutiny as Draco did. Perhaps because Blaise had been in Italy for so long that people had forgotten him. Or maybe the fact that he wasn't a Malfoy had spared the Italian from the extra added punishment. Regardless, jealousy aside, it gave him some bit it of hope that maybe he could find some peace himself.

Well, technically speaking, he already had. Hermione was his peace. He couldn't deny that. She was the only reason he was able to sit in his seat where the teachers' table used to be with dignity. Normally the graduation ceremony would be on the Hogwarts grounds, but as it stood there were only forty adult students who had returned to redo their Seventh Year. And so, with a bit of magic to enlargen the platform, the Great Hall was the perfect place to hold the ceremony. It made it, to use Hermione's terminology, more intimate this way. Draco was inclined to agree.

He sat there and listened to various professors give long-winded speeches while letting his eyes scan the crowd. It was a pretty massive turnout considering the number of graduates, but this was the first graduation of the historic school in four years. Among the guests there were also reporters from the Daily Prophet and other newspapers and magazines. They made him feel anxious. He felt like their eyes were solely on him and thinking up wild stories to print in the next edition.

 _Just what was Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy –who is currently serving a lifetime sentence in Azkaban –doing among the graduates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? One would think he would have a sense of decency not to show up at the establishment he had had a hand in destroying, but it seems that the Malfoy superiority complex rings true._

Draco snorted silently to himself. Were not being an Auror his true aspiration he could've made one hell of a writer. He did it in his spare time –in his head. He thought up what newspapers would say about him given the right situation. An unhealthy habit, yes, but one practiced so well that it was hard to break.

He sighed and caught Hermione's smile from the corner of his eye. It wasn't directed at the crowd. It was directed towards _him._ Draco smiled back, almost hearing her voice trying to soothe his paranoia. How in Merlin's name had he managed to keep his sanity in check these last few years without her? However that feat had been done he was just thankful that he'd been rescued from it.

"Hermione Granger," said Professor McGonagall.

Draco watched as Hermione got up from her seat and walked across the stage to greet her. The brunette was given a quick wand-wave and a gold and red sash appeared over her. It held the Gryffindor emblem as well as the Hogwarts' crest. She was absolutely beaming over it and walked back to her seat with what could only be described as a skip in her step. Draco heard a huge cheer from below that was distinguishable from the rest. There was quite a little gathering for her –and for the female ginger he expected. They were quite easy to spot with that bunch of red hair. Among them sat two people who he instantly recognized as his lover's parents. She was an absolute spitting image of her mother. And all at once Draco began to panic again. Did Hermione tell them about him? If so, what did she say? Would she want him to meet them? Were they even at that stage yet? What stage were they even at?

"Draco Malfoy,"

Draco had been so preoccupied with his thoughts that he'd almost missed his name. The quiet that the school fell in was palpable. He took a deep breath and got up from his seat, crossing the same way that Hermione had until he was face to face with his professor.

"Congratulations," Professor McGonagall said to him as her wand produced a green and silver sash. Her face was impressively unreadable, but, if he wasn't mistaken, there was some sort of smile playing on her lips. Draco thanked her and he awaited the awkward clap that would be the sound of two pairs of hands from the audience. And yes, it was painstaking to just hear Blaise and Liliana, but then he caught a pair of hands going wildly to his left and he grinned when he found Hermione on her feet and cheering him on.

 _This woman…_ Draco thought to himself. Something about her held the power to make things happen, because soon the entire Great Hall was also clapping for him. They were hardly as enthusiastic, of course, but an applause was an applause. Draco was able to go back to his seat thoroughly embarrassed while his other half seemed to be enjoying it as she sat down.

Three more names and a shot of festive sparks later and everyone atop the stage were officially Hogwarts graduates. Draco found Hermione quickly and swept her up in his arms, giving her a little spin as he did so.

"You do realize that your spectacle attracted the eyes of several reporters, don't you?" Draco asked her once he put her down. Hermione smiled.

"Oh and this hug on an elevated platform hasn't?" She countered. "Besides, I think what we've done confirmed suspicions rather than brought up new ones."

Hermione took a moment to look out into the crowd. She could spot her company easily, and many wore confused faces. Ginny had told her that Ron had informed them all of what had happened when he and Harry had gone to visit. Even if she hadn't, the letters from various Weasley family members would've told her that. The shock on their faces were no less understanding despite having known for at least two weeks. And then there were her parents who wore very inquisitive gazes as to who was the man that currently held her attention and, well _her_ , seeing as how his hands were still wrapped around her and there was very little space between them. Hermione did remember Zabini from school and his smirk was the most Slytherin-worthy thing she'd ever seen aside from Draco's. There was no malice behind it though, and he looked quite sincere.

"The headlines will be wrought with speculation by tomorrow morning." Draco said as he took note of the flashing cameras.

"You mean by tonight." Hermione corrected. "They're putting out a special edition because it's Hogwarts' first graduation since the war."

"Right," he said with a slight frown. "I'm sorry in advance for-"

"Don't you dare." She stopped him. "There shall be no brooding from you today."

"Fair enough." Draco laughed. "You'd better get to your lot before they pry you away from me in an embarrassing display."

"I suppose so. I can already see the Weasleys plotting your death from here."

"How charming," he scoffed. "Regardless, don't leave with them too quickly, will you? Blaise won't let me hear the end of it if he doesn't get the chance to talk to you."

Hermione chuckled. "Got it."

Draco watched her walk off towards her group while he went off to his own. Blaise was his usual, jolly self and he welcomed him with a clap on the back.

"Merlin, you two don't know a thing about keeping a low profile, do you?" Blaise said as he gestured to the mass of reporters. "I can't wait to see the Daily Prophet tonight."

"Nice try, Blaise." Draco said after giving Liliana a hug. "But you don't get the Daily Prophet in Italy."

"True, but for the right price you can get just about anything." He winked. Draco rolled his eyes before catching sight of Liliana's worried expression. He followed his gaze and felt his lips tug downward at what he saw.

"Your girlfriend isn't fairing too well over there, is she?" Liliana said.

Draco shook his head. "Apparently not." He could see her. Hermione was completely red in the face as she spoke to one of the Weasleys while her parents stood perplexed by her side as to why the redheaded family was so upset.

"And to think," Blaise commented as he watched the scene. "We purebloods are the tolerant ones."

"That's because we're one of a kind." Draco said as he saw Potter and his girlfriend interceding. "Some of us aren't that tolerant."

"Unfortunately… but we'll kick their arses when the time comes for it. No problem."

 _Two Slytherins coming to the aid of a muggleborn Gryffindor. Salazar must be fussing in his grave._

Draco continued to watch the argumentative seen all the while seeing a flash of light from his periphery. Yes, the Daily Prophet would be more than interesting come tomorrow –no, _tonight_. It did give him some satisfaction that the Weasleys might be portrayed in an unfavorable light what with their red faces and exasperated mannerisms. The brunette soon diverted her attention to her parents, talking to them in much calmer tones, motioning over to Draco once, and then watching the elder Grangers smile and let their daughter leave their side.

"I hope that none of you could hear the chaos that went on over there." Hermione spoke once she had reached them. "I scolded them all, I promise."

"I'm sure you did, Granger. You were always a quick with the tongue." Blaise said with a smile as he introduced himself with a shake of her hand. "Pleasure to _properly_ meet you. Hope you don't mind if I stick to the surname. Figured it'd be a bit inappropriate to go with the given considering Draco hasn't had the balls to do so himself just yet."

" _Blaise!_ " Draco admonished with a deep, embarrassed reddening of his cheeks. Blaise laughed as he suffered a playful slap on the arm by his wife.

"Please forgive his crassness," Liliana said to Hermione with a sideways look to her husband. "He can be a bit uncensored. I'm Liliana."

"Wonderful to meet you." Hermione replied, her smile just as wide as Blaise's. "And there's no need to apologize. I have to deal with him all day." She threw a thumb towards Draco. "So no worries."

"Hey," Draco frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing for you to bother yourself about." Hermione said and kissed him on the cheek. There went yet another camera flash.

"Something tells me the papers won't address the graduation one bit." Liliana said as she covered the side of her face from the bright flashes.

"Most likely," Draco said, trying his best to keep his sneer in check. Hermione noticed and hugged him around the midsection.

"And we'll handle whatever it says." She reassured him. Both she and Draco missed the soft, knowing looks of the Zabinis while the husband cleared his throat.

"Alright, you two, break it up before you need a room."

Liliana placed her hands on her hips. "Honestly, do you _ever_ think before you speak?"

"In his presence?" Blaise asked as he gestured to Draco with a head nod. "Not at all. And speaking of that, Draco," he addressed. "I'll have to borrow Granger for a moment."

" _Me?_ " Hermione asked. Draco only groaned.

"Must you?"

"Absolutely. You know the drill."

"I'm sorry," Hermione piped up. "But _what_ drill?"

"Basically," Liliana answered. "These two are married. Neither can do anything without approval from the other, so Blaise has to talk to the young woman who's stolen his husband's heart. I had to go through the same, already married or not." She added with a laugh.

"And nothing we say is ever discussed with the third party." Blaise said, then turning to his wife. "No matter how hard you beg."

"Of course not," Liliana smiled.

Blaise shook his head and let her walk off with Draco some several feet away. Although the Great Hall was noisy enough with all of the graduates and guests, the Italian still used his wand to put up a Silencing Charm around them.

"Alright," Hermione said, clearly intrigued by his and Draco's arrangement. "So, what's the talk going to be about?"

"No talk, really." Blaise told her. "I may not know you personally, but I do know _of_ you, and you're pretty much a saint."

She chuckled. "And I still have to go through an interrogation?"

"Not an interrogation either. It's more of a…favor that I have to ask of you."

"A favor?" Hermione asked with a tilted head. "Um, I guess. What is it?"

"It's about Draco." Blaise said a bit hesitantly. It was amazing, really. The man was calm and so easy-going that it was hard to envision him so timid and unsure of himself as he had now become. "He…he's my best mate. I've seen him at his best and I've certainly seen him at his worst. He's been through a lot, Granger, and if I'm to be honest? The happiest I've seen him is when he's been with you. So, I guess the favor I'm asking is just… Don't hurt him, okay?"

"Hurting him is the last thing I want to do." Hermione said earnestly. "You have my word on that."

"Good." Blaise nodded. Then he grinned. "And if you could help make him less of an arse too, that would be great."

Hermione laughed. "No promises on that one."

* * *

 **Author's note:** They're graduates! And I'll admit it, Blaise is my absolute favorite character to write in this. He's the best friend everyone should have.

Thanks for reading guys!

-WP


	14. Scandalous

_Sleeping with the Enemy?_

 _Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy: Cupid's Latest Match-Up_

 _Just four months ago all of the wizarding world were trying to figure out just how Cupid had managed to get Elena Higginsbee of the Weird Sisters and the prominent, well-to-do Ministry official Alan Rocksworth "rocking out" together in the most romantic of spots. But who would've ever thought that the winged bringer of love could get two of the most well-known people –and total polar opposites –into the sack?_

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has just held its first graduation since June of 1997 –and even then it had been a less than festive affair considering that the illustrious and historic school had just lost its Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. While this year's graduation was what had drawn dozens of guests, including several photographers and reporters, that's not what eager writers, such as myself, rushed back to their respective headquarters to write about. It was the fact that none other than war heroine, Hermione Granger, and Deatheater, Draco Malfoy, were a little more than chummy at the ceremony._

 _"They're dating." One graduate said with a shake of her head. "I still can't believe it, but they're_ _ **actually DATING**_ _."_

 _"They've been all coupled up for a while now." Said another student. "Gives me the chills just thinking about it."_

 _That's right folks. Harry Potter's best friend and Voldemort's Follower are DATING. And if we hadn't had confirmation from the quoted students above or talks with several others, the way Gryffindor's Princess cheered the Slytherin on when he was sashed would help with that. Not to mention the darling little hug he gave her at the end of the ceremony, or the enamored expressions they constantly gave each other. And while (shockingly!) the blond wizard's friends seemed to be just fine with a muggleborn in their midst, Miss Granger's group seemed to be completely opposed to such a union._

 _And aren't they right in a way?_

 _Draco Malfoy had single-handedly led to Hogwarts' destruction when he subjected the school to a raid by Deatheaters when he was just_ _ **sixteen years old!**_ _The raid had led to the death of Albus Dumbledore and subsequently the complete takeover of the school by Deatheaters for the 1997-1998 academic year as well as the Battle of Hogwarts. Although there was substantial evidence against Mr. Malfoy to send him to Azkaban (as had happened to his father, Lucius Malfoy), he had been pardoned for his heinous actions –ironically with the help of Harry Potter –back in August of 1998._

 _Regardless of this, no one can (or ever will) forget Draco Malfoy's pivotal role in the Second Wizarding War. And yet, Hermione Granger can? The same witch who had once been tortured by the Deatheater's aunt in his own home? It begs the question of what_ _ **really**_ _is going on here because, well, let's face it, it doesn't make sense!_

 _"I'd bet my entire Gringott's vault that [Draco Malfoy] cursed her somehow." A fifth year student commented. "I mean, honestly, what could she possibly see in him?"_

 _Well, past aside, the Slytherin Prince_ _ **is**_ _a sight for sore eyes, but are his devilishly good looks enough to supersede the shaky history between himself and his pure lover?_

 _It appears so._

 _Written by Parvati Patil_

"Pure lover?" Hermione repeated with disgust. " _Pure lover?_ Does she not realize how contradictory that is? It ridiculous!"

"Honestly, Hermione, _that's_ what you're focusing on?" Ginny asked as she folded the Daily Prophet in half. The photo of the brunette and Draco hugging and holding each other on top of the stage at Hogwarts was still visible. "The article basically _trashed_ Malfoy."

Hermione cocked a brow. "You care about his feelings?"

"I care about _your_ feelings." Ginny corrected. "And unfortunately they're quite tied to that blond git." She frowned, deciding to throw out the paper instead of keeping it. "I honestly don't know how she became a writer. Her writing is awful!"

"It's a gossip column, Gin." Hermione shrugged. "It doesn't have to be written well. It just has to capture people's attention."

"Oh, that'll certainly get _everyone's_ attention."

Hermione grimaced. "I hope not Malfoy's. He wrote me and said that his mother somehow wrangled a bunch of guests in record time. She's hosting a little get-together to celebrate his graduation. I would hate for this to ruin it."

"I hope you take those words to heart then." Ginny said as she stood. "Because in case you've forgotten, there's a party in the backyard for the both of us and we're missing it."

Hermione sighed, knowing that it was true. Despite the "little" spat back in the Great Hall, no one was going to spare either young woman the right to celebrate their educational accomplishment. The Weasleys had thrown them a party and both of them had been enjoying it until an edition of the Daily Prophet had come swooping in about two hours after the festivities had begun. They had come inside to see what damaging words had been printed.

"Dear Merlin, what on _earth_ is George showing my mother?" Hermione asked urgently as she spotted the pair of them in the backyard.

Ginny laughed. "Oh, come on, Hermione. George wouldn't… Actually, on second thought, let me go break the two of them up."

Ginny ran off ahead of Hermione to put a stop to whatever destructive object was in her brother's hands. The brunette smiled when she was sure that damage had been averted and she merely stood near the back door, watching the festivities and loving just how happy everyone was.

Everyone except Ron, that is.

He seemed to be the only one unable to rein in his emotions and he seemed completely torn. Perhaps he sensed that her eyes were on him because he suddenly looked in her direction. Hermione stiffened.

 _Oh no, what should I do? Should I walk away? Should I pretend I didn't see him? Should I-?_

"Hermione," Ron addressed.

She gulped.

"Ron,"

Ron stood before her, shuffling his feet. Hermione looked everywhere she could that wasn't his face.

"Do you want to-?" Both of them began, stopped, and then laughed awkwardly.

"We should talk, Hermione."

Hermione was surprised at his initiative, nodded almost robotically, and followed him into the house. They sat in the living room, sure that no one would bother them, but a Silencing Charm was put up anyway.

"Harry told me what you two talked about that day." Ron said, diving right in. "He said that it convinced him that you weren't completely crazy."

Hermione nodded. "He told me that himself in a letter. But…what about you, Ron? I know how everyone else feels –strangers even –but I don't know how _you_ feel. Are you…? Are you still mad at me?"

"I was never mad."

The scoff from the witch was nearly ear-shattering. Ron chuckled.

"Alright, so I was bloody furious. But you have to understand why, don't you? You chose Malfoy over me!"

"I didn't choose him over you!" Hermione said exasperatedly. "I'm sorry that I have to say this, but I would've had to have chosen you in the first place."

Ron's face fell. Hermione took a deep breath as she began to play with her fingers.

"You had to have known that." She continued, not quite raking up the courage to look at him.

Ron chewed the inside of his jaw. "…I did. I _do_. But I can't help the way I feel."

"Neither can I,"

"About me or Malfoy?"

Hermione ruefully smiled. "Both… Can I ask you something, though? Be honest with me now. What were you more upset over? The fact that I wasn't rethinking us? Or that I was seeing Malfoy?"

"Truthfully?" Ron sighed as he anxiously rubbed his hands over his thighs. "That you weren't rethinking us. The fact that you had moved on –and with _Malfoy_ no less –well, that hit a sore spot with me. You remember what you said when we broke up, don't you? What the arrangement was?"

Hermione slowly nodded, quite ashamed of herself that they had never had this talk earlier. "I told you that I needed time. Space and time to think about us."

"You had plenty of time, Hermione. Maybe not space considering we're still friends and we _have_ the same friends, but you had time."

"I'm so sorry, Ron." Hermione apologized. "We should've talked. We should've clarified things. _I_ should've clarified things… We had fallen into such a good rhythm that it just didn't occur to me that you were left hanging in the air about us."

"Well, I'm certainly not hanging in the air anymore." He grimly joked. Hermione tried to turn the corners of her mouth upward but they seemed to have lost all functionality. "And you shouldn't take all the blame for that. I never came right out and asked."

"Why didn't you?"

"Too afraid to know the answer."

"Understandable,"

"But Hermione," Ron suddenly addressed. " _Malfoy?_ _ **Malfoy**_ , of all people? What are you thinking-?"

"Stop." Hermione interrupted. "I've had enough people asking me that question, and I really don't need it from you too. You hate Malfoy, I get it. I'm not asking you to be friends with him either. It's just…as my friend could you at the very least respect my decision and know that I've thought this through?"

"Do you realize what you're asking me to do? You want me to sit here and approve of a relationship-"

"I'm not asking for your approval on anything." She said with perhaps a bit too much force. She cleared her throat and continued more calmly. "I just don't want you to abandon me. I want you to be there like you always have been. I want you to be my best friend."

Ron took a deep breath. "I'll _always_ be there for you, Hermione. No matter what. And considering that this is what you've chosen… Me, Harry, all of us really, we have no choice _but_ to be there. We have to be there when – _if_ ," Ron said quickly at her expression, "things fall apart."

Hermione didn't know whether to feel happy or sad. She was glad to know that Ron wouldn't forego their friendship (nor the rest of her friends), but the fact that they basically thought that she and Draco would eventually fail, it was disconcerting. She could only imagine what things on the blond's end were looking like at the moment.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Okay, so I think I had a bit too much fun writing that Daily Prophet article haha. I tried to channel my inner gossip columnist so I hope I didn't disappoint. And then there's Ron. At least he and Hermione are on good terms again with a mutual understanding.

For the next chapter we get Draco's reaction :).

Thanks so much for all the support guys! It's September now, which means school's in session. Not for me exactly since I just finished my online program (yes!), but I did sign up for Spanish classes (sucker for education like Hermione). But for all of you still in school good luck on the academic year! Be good and study like Hermione!

-WP :)


	15. Loyalty

_Draco Malfoy had single-handedly led to Hogwarts' destruction._

 _Single-handedly?_

 _ **Single-handedly?**_

"Well, at least she called you handsome."

Draco scowled as he looked up from the newspaper. "Be serious, Blaise."

Blaise grinned as he popped a sweet into his mouth. "I was."

The blond's grimace worsened as he threw the Daily Prophet into the fireplace. He watched his and Hermione's photo burn until it was gone completely. "Do you think Granger saw it?"

"The woman doesn't live under a rock, Draco. Of course she saw it."

Was it possible for him to frown any further? Draco was in the process of finding out when he felt Blaise's presence at his side rather than in the chair in front of him.

"You have nothing to worry about." He told him. "Granger's not going to ditch you just because the public is questioning her sanity. I promise you that."

Draco looked up at him with an appreciative and then an inquisitive stare. "You promise, huh? Is that what she told you, more or less, when you two spoke earlier today?"

"Not telling," Blaise shot him down. "Unless, of course, you're willing to spill a few details on what you and Liliana-?"

"Not happening,"

"Then my lips are zipped."

Both men were all smiles at that when Daisy the house elf appeared before them. She bowed before addressing them in her timid voice.

"Forgive the intrusion, Master Malfoy. Mistress Malfoy requests your presence with the other guests."

The elf's ears twitched some as though she was hearing something –probably Narcissa calling for her. That assumption was pretty much confirmed when her face set up in a small frown before she disappeared from their sight. Draco shook his head.

"That poor elf," he said. "My mother's going to run her to the ground."

"I beg your pardon?" Blaise nearly stuttered. "Is Draco Malfoy caring for the well-being of elves? Granger must be so proud."

Draco scoffed as he stood. "I'm not about to free them. But my mother's been using Daisy and the other elves as her wand since her home confinement began. No one should be under that kind of punishment –elf or not."

Blaise agreed, knowing first hand of Narcissa's need to put a wand to everything. He followed Draco out of his personal study and they went down to the main dining hall where the Christmas dinner had been held last year. The graduation celebration had been a surprise to Draco when he, Blaise, and Liliana made it to Malfoy Manor. He had specifically asked –no, begged was more like it –for his mother not to make a big deal of things. Naturally, she wouldn't listen. She loved hosting, period. She'd throw a party just because the roses bloomed. Since her only son had completed his schooling (against all odds, no less) a celebration was warranted.

Draco supposed that the party was a blessing in hindsight. With no one at home they wouldn't see the Daily Prophet article that arrived just over a half an hour ago until they all left. And then…chaos? Anarchy? He was already privy to the backlash that Hermione had received from her own lot. He could just imagine his own and finally understood how his life could get so much worse.

And speaking of worse…

"Someone up there hates me." Draco groaned as he looked out into the mass of people. Blaise followed his gaze and a devious smirk filled his face.

"Either that or they have one pleasantly wicked sense of humor." He said as he spied Pansy handing over her robes to a house elf. "Good luck ducking and dodging, mate. Throw some zigs and zags in there."

That was the second time Blaise left him to fend for himself at the hands of that grabby witch. Draco really was going to murder him one day.

With a sigh Draco meandered through the partygoers. He gave shallow hellos to some, engaged in conversations with others, and sipped champagne with a few. He hoped that with the constant moving that he would be able to escape Pansy. It had been working fairly well, surprisingly, but he knew that he couldn't outrun her forever. She eventually did catch up to him, but contrary to her normal behavior she didn't immediately maul him. That had been refreshing, to say the least, but also concerning when he took into account her serious disposition.

"Can we talk, Draco?" She asked him. Draco resisted the quirk of his brow and nodded. They went out to the balcony –catching Narcissa's eye along the way and the curve of her lips. He would have to debunk every thought that she was currently having before they spun out of control.

"What is it, Pansy?"

"Is it true? What the Daily Prophet wrote –is it true?"

 _She did just arrive. Obviously with enough time to read that_ _ **horrid**_ _article. Perfect._

"It is." Draco admitted. "What of it?"

Pansy's mouth dropped. "What of it? _What of it?_ You're-" her voice dropped to a whisper although it was hardly necessary, "-sleeping with a mudblood!"

Draco's eyes narrowed and his lips turned into a snarl. " _Don't_ call her that."

"Fine," she said hesitantly, taking in his demeanor. "Muggleborn then. But the fact remains that you've lost your mind! What on earth are you thinking?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I think she's a wonderful woman and I enjoy dating her very much."

 _Huh. Dating. Did they even use that word with each other? Well, Granger did say it once when she was yelling at Weasley, but did she mean it? They still hadn't labeled anything. Not that I'm in a rush to, but it would be nice I suppose…_

"You're going to ruin yourself with her." Pansy grumbled.

Draco chuckled as he leaned gracefully on the balcony's railing. "Oh really? And my life was all unicorns and fairy dust this whole time?"

Pansy stomped her foot. "I'm serious!"

"So am I." Draco said sternly. "And don't for one second stand there and try to get me to think that you care _anything_ about my social standing. You're just upset that someone else has captured my attention." He smirked some when he saw how red her face became. It didn't come close to how lovely the color looked on Hermione. "I'm happy to say you can stop trying to dig your claws into me now."

"I admit," she said slowly, attempting to hold her anger in, "that I had envisioned a future for us. But this is bigger than you and me." She took a step towards him and crossed her arms. "You lost your footing with the wizarding world after the war."

Draco's jaw clenched at the mere mentioning of it, but Pansy trudged forward.

"And you lost it among the pureblood society –the ones not directly involved with the war because they were smart enough not to get involved with a maniac."

Draco resisted the urge to bear his teeth like a predator. "Like _your_ family?"

Pansy snootily raised her chin. "Yes, but that's not the point."

"What is your _point_ then?"

"My point is that your mother's done a very good job of turning everyone around –well, the ones that matter. It certainly helps that your father isn't here-"

"Watch it, Parkinson."

"I'm sorry, but it's true." Pansy continued. "If you continue this association with that mud-," she paused, "That _muggleborn_ , it won't be looked on favorably. Everyone just may abandon you."

Draco let his snarl show. "Well, if they'd be so quick to leave then they're not very loyal."

"They're not Hufflepuffs, Draco."

"Never said they were." He shrugged as he stuck his hands in his pockets. "Moving away from my mother and myself after the war, understandable. But simply because I'm seeing someone not like them? I suppose it'd do wonders to show me who my real friends are. So," he said to her with a gesture of his head. "Are you?"

Pansy stared at him curiously. "Am I what?"

"My real friend,"

She scowled. "I thought you didn't want my claws digging into you."

"And I don't." Draco stated surely. "Nevertheless, you had always been a good friend before you realized that all other prospects were getting snatched up. So, are you my real friend or not?"

Pansy continued to stare at him for several passing seconds before letting out a frustrated sigh. " _Yes._ I didn't leave you after the whole You-Know-Who fiasco and I'm not going to do it now although your taste in women baffles me. Stupid git…"

Draco smiled. "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah," she waved him off. "Just so you know, if I end up old and alone with nothing but mangy felines for company I'm blaming it all on _you_."

"No need to get cruel." Draco said as he began to lead them back to the party. "I can introduce you to a distant cousin of mine. Jacques,"

Pansy let a brow of hers rise. "A Frenchman?"

"Yes,"

"A _rich_ Frenchman?"

"Yes,"

"Well, by all means, take me straight to him. If things go well he and I can have lunch at the local boulangerie in London. And then…"

Pansy continued to talk on and on about future dates with a man she'd yet to meet. Draco was getting a migraine and regretting this already.

Poor Jacques.

* * *

Later on that evening when all of the guests had gone –Blaise and Liliana included –he had gone in search of his mother with a copy of the Daily Prophet. With the help of a Speed Owl, Blaise had sent over his own copy since Draco had destroyed his in roaring flames.

With everyone now at home from the festivities, that meant they all had access to the article that had officially outed him and Hermione to the world. Letters of confusion and downright outrage would start making their way to Malfoy Manor soon and Draco didn't want his mother to be blind-sighted. Even more than that, she deserved to hear it from his own mouth and not from black and white print.

The blond man of the house took a deep breath when he finally found his mother in one of the main studies. Narcissa sat, poised and polished, sipping on tea and doing what she did after every celebration –decompressing. She was probably making mental notes as to what went well, what went _abysmally_ wrong, and when and for what reason the next event would be.

He took a deep breath.

"Mother,"

"Oh, Draco, don't do that!" Narcissa exclaimed with wide eyes. "Sneaking in like that…" She tutted. "You startled me."

"Sorry,"

Narcissa stared at her son curiously and set her tea aside. "Something's wrong."

Draco's brows furrowed. "What makes you say that?"

"Everything about you." She said pointedly. "You're as rigid as a board. Not to mention you're holding that paper as though it was a lifeline."

Draco's eyes followed her gaze to his hand. In truth the Daily Prophet paper was clenched so tightly that if it were a living thing it would've bled out by now. Was he nervous? Perhaps that wasn't the right word… It was just that…well, hell, this was his _mother._ He had never truly been one to let other people's opinions get to him. Since the war that had changed drastically. But whether before or after, his mother had always had that effect on him. She was the one person (one of two now that Hermione was involved) whose opinion mattered a great deal to him. That wasn't to say that once she found out about his… _thing –relationship?_ –with Hermione that he was going to back down just because she didn't approve. Rather, her reaction would be another patch on his quilt of depression, and he hoped that Hermione would be able to unstitch it like she had done with so many others.

"I have something for you to read." Draco said. He walked over and sat in the armchair next to her, handing her the Daily Prophet in the process.

The headline had immediately caught her attention. He watched as her eyes flickered over the tip of the newspaper to look at him and he encouraged her with a nod to continue. Narcissa took a deep breath to gather her bearings, opened it, and went to the designated page that discussed her son and _Hermione Granger's_ love affair.

The silence that followed ate at Draco like a crow at a dead body. Each second that ticked by was another stab at his wild thoughts as well as his impatience. He heard his mother scoff, saw the narrowness of her eyes, and how her fingers wrinkled the paper. He assumed she was reading about the part where he had _single-handedly_ handed Hogwarts and the entire wizarding world on a silver platter. His reaction had very much been the same.

Eventually his mother did finish the article. It had taken her so long Draco assumed that she had read it twice.

"Wild accusations or truth?"

"Truth,"

"For how long?"

"Since January. Initial attraction in December."

"Is it serious?"

"I…" Draco's voice trailed. "We haven't labeled anything."

Narcissa quirked a perfect brow in the air. "It's been _months_ and you haven't labeled anything?"

Draco sighed. "It's complicated."

"How so?"

"How so?" He asked, astonished. " _How so?_ Did you not read about who I'm seeing?"

Narcissa nodded. "I did."

"And you have to ask why it's complicated?"

"You and…Miss Granger have a troubled history, I know. That, however, is no excuse to completely ignore rules of courtship, Draco. What you have just described is casual dating and it's abhorrent."

Draco sat with his mouth slackened and completely agape while his mother continued to regard him in her mother-est of ways.

"Rules of courtship?" He repeated in disbelief. "How in Merlin's name can you talk about rules of courtship? This is _Granger!_ _Hermione Granger!_ You should be cursing up a storm right now."

"Now, now, a proper woman never _curses_." Narcissa said with a wrinkle of nose. "And as for your expected reaction from me, is that what you really want? For me to be angry? For me to drone on and on about how you should be taken with a pureblood witch instead of a mudblood-?"

Draco flinched.

"-About how the both of you will have a horrible time together due to the public eye breathing down your necks at this unholy union?" Narcissa sighed and picked back up her tea. "I could say all of those things, Draco. I can mean every single one of them because yes, that is what I think and how I feel.

'However, you are your own man and allowed to make your own choices. Your father," she added with a slight quiver in her tone, "he made and forced many decisions upon you and look where it has landed us. Perhaps were it not for such hairy events you _would_ be with a pureblood witch.

'At least I can be pleased that Miss Granger isn't a dimwit and with her prestige she can help lift the Malfoy name. She can help…" Her eyes softened as she stared at her son. "She can help lift _you._ Does she do that, Draco? Does she help you to cope?"

"She makes me feel like I'm not a failure, yes." Draco smiled. "And more,"

Narcissa nodded, giving a small smile of her own. "Then that is what is important."

* * *

 **Author's note:** So, more than just Draco's reaction here! I probably liked Narcissa's the most. Such a motherly one, if I don't say so myself :).

So, let's see. We've dealt with enraged friends, getting blasted over the newspaper, heartfelt conversations…. I think some fluff is in order. Maybe a lemon?

Until next time!

-WP


	16. Seclusion

What was that saying? That you didn't know what you missed until it was gone? Hermione wasn't gone per se, but not having her in the same place, not being able to just see her at a moment's notice, it was basically the same.

That's why Draco was currently levitating his trunk into his fireplace and stepping in after it. "Hermione Granger residence," he said before dropping down Floo Powder. Never in his life did he ever think Malfoy Manor would have a Floo connection to any member of the Golden Trio –let alone Hermione. But here he was, stepping out of her fireplace and immediately spotting her. She was sitting on her couch, her trunk sitting upright next to it, and she was going at her nails like she had skipped breakfast. She hadn't even heard him enter.

"You're going to eat your whole hand if you're not careful."

Hermione immediately stopped, looked up, and smiled broadly as she stood. "Malfoy,"

He smiled just the same. "Granger,"

Hermione stepped around her coffee table and threw herself onto him. Draco had nearly fallen back, but whether he had or hadn't, it didn't matter. All that he knew and cared about was the fact that he was being kissed, passionately he might add. It had only been four days since he'd seen her, but everything about her felt new. Her lips felt softer and she tasted of peppermint. Her body felt warmer, more inviting –and perhaps that wasn't helped by how close he was holding her against him.

She kissed his lips. She kissed his cheeks. His forehead. His ear –which made him laugh. She feathered kisses on his throat and it took every ounce of willpower on his part not to forego his plans and have them strip bare in the middle of her living room. It was no library, but it would certainly do.

"I missed you." Hermione said once she was through with her amorous greeting.

"I can tell."

"You're _supposed_ to say that you missed me too."

Draco feigned ignorance. "Am I?"

He dodged a playful slap on the arm and laughed before giving her a kiss of his own. "I missed you too. Now, get ready. We're going to have to leave soon."

"To where, you refuse to tell me." Hermione said as he fished out a glass from inside his robes' pocket. "I'm assuming it's somewhere cold seeing as I have to bring these." She donned her robes that were once his and fastened them around her.

"Yes, it's cold. Charmed to stay that way no matter what month it is."

"Impressive magic,"

"It's an impressive place. Alright, finger on the portkey."

Hermione had one hand on her luggage while a finger was on the glass Draco had put on her coffee table. The portkey activated after a few seconds and they both felt that familiar tug as they were being lifted through space. She let go of it when he told her to and she found herself landing in a pile of soft snow. And the weather positively _freezing._

"Malfoy," she said as she looked around. "Where are we?"

"France," Draco answered proudly. "Chamonix, France, to be precise."

Hermione turned her head to him quickly as realization dawned on her. "The French Alps. We're in the _French Alps?_ "

Draco nodded, feeling every wave of pride hit him as Hermione's excitement grew. "I figured that we could get away for a weekend. I think we deserve it considering the annoying mess that's back home. So, welcome to L'Hôtel Chamonix."

Hermione gasped. "But that's so expensive!"

"A bit, but one of the few places that cares less about my past and more about my money." Draco grinned. He set his finger under her chin and closed her mouth. "Shall we go in?"

"Yes!" She said eagerly as she messily stood. Draco was grinning from ear to ear. She had her _I just passed all of my NEWTs_ face on and he couldn't have been happier.

He led her up the snow-covered path to the hotel that had been behind them. Hermione's eyes were wide with delight as she saw the glamorous building come into view. It had five floors, each floor with a balcony and a set of lounge chairs and tables. From the outside chandeliers could be seen from the glass doors and they looked even more magnificent once the pair had reached inside.

Draco himself had never been to L'Hôtel Chamonix before. It had been, to his utter surprise, his mother's suggestion that he go somewhere for the weekend or even just a day. She had plopped the brochure of the hotel onto his lap and added, quite flippantly, that he could "bring a guest" if he wanted. And so he did. Now he was admiring the marble floor, mahogany reception desks with impeccable shine, the matching wood walls inlay with a gold finish, furniture gracing the lobby looking quite stylish and untouchable, yet inviting at the same time.

"Bonjour," a friendly hostess greeted them. "Bienvenue à L'Hôtel Chamonix. Votre nom?"

"Malfoy,"

The woman opened a large book and it began to turn pages on its own. A quill was also dangling in the air before it landed neatly on a page.

"Oui, vous avez la suite de l'isolement." She said as she looked up. Two keys appeared in her hand and she handed them to Draco. "La suite est sur le cinquième étage. Prenez l'ascenseur et utilisez le clé."

"Merci," Draco thanked her. They didn't leave though, as he leaned over to say quietly, "Et notre accord?"

"Personne saura de votre présence."

Draco inclined his head to her and then took Hermione by the hand, their luggage floating behind them as they went towards the elevators. The brunette kept letting her gaze flicker between him and the hostess with a silly grin.

"You speak French."

 _Was it a sin to be this prideful?_

"Yes."

"You'll have to teach me." Hermione insisted. "It's always been an interest of mine. What did you say to her? At the end? I figure the beginning was all hotel protocol."

"I had made an arrangement with the hotel." Draco explained. "Just to make sure that no one would bother us here."

"Good," she sighed contently as they and their luggage stepped inside the elevator. She hugged him around his middle and took in his scent. It smelled even stronger than she remembered.

The elevator was fairly standard with buttons for each floor. When Draco had owled about the rooming options they had, the Seclusion Suite had immediately caught his eye. Taking up the entire fifth floor, no one would have access to it but them. It required a key in the elevator to get up there, and when the doors finally opened even Draco, who was used to lavish things, couldn't help it when his mouth dropped.

"Malfoy, I could kiss you."

 _I could kiss myself._

Draco had, undoubtedly, outdone himself. Hermione left his side to walk down the mini hall and stood in middle of the suite's living room. It held two luscious long brown couches and two accompanying armchairs with a glass coffee table on gold legs in the middle of it. A wall separated it from a kitchen, and Hermione couldn't help but wonder what Draco would look like operating in one.

 _Does he even know the basic concept of a stove?_

It made her chuckle.

Hermione ignored the kitchen, went past the living room and down another little hall that led to an enormous bedroom complete with a king-sized bed, night tables on either side with lamps, a walk-in closet, an expensive work desk, and a vanity mirror. Across the hall from the bedroom was the most beautiful bathroom she had ever seen and she nearly crashed into Draco as she ran back out into the hall.

"There's a Jacuzzi in there!" Hermione said excitedly. "Malfoy, I… I can't believe that you arranged this."

Draco merely shrugged. He was trying to keep his ego as small as possible. It wasn't very attractive otherwise.

"I just wanted somewhere for us to be alone. Our own…Room of Requirement, I suppose."

"If that's the case then food doesn't just appear. You know, one of the five Principal Exceptions-"

"-to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration." Draco smiled as he finished her words. "Yes, I know. I _did_ get an Outstanding in Advanced Transfiguration after all. However, there are kitchen elves on call twenty-four hours a day. The kitchen here is honestly just for show."

"Oh no, elves?" Hermione said with a frown. "Must we bother them?"

"Do you want to starve?"

Hermione let out an exasperated groan. "Alright, alright fine. But you do it; I'll feel terrible if I do."

Draco shook his head at her, but couldn't help but be amused. So concerned with what she didn't have to be concerned with. Although, that was one of the things that had kept his attraction to her strong, wasn't it? Her capacity to care was staggering. Strange –to him at least. And captivating.

He had done as she asked and got them something to eat while she unpacked her trunk. When the food finally arrived they sat at the kitchen counter and dug in. Neither had any intentions of leaving the suite today, preferring to explore tomorrow. And so they ate slowly, enjoying one another's company without feeling as though someone was watching them.

"You never did tell me what kind of job you wanted to get now that we're done." Draco said as he sipped on wine. Hermione had nagged and said that it was much too early for such a thing, but he only replied saying that it was never too early.

"I don't know." Hermione mused as she seriously began to think about it. "I've had it on my mind for the past year, to be honest. And I suppose I am leaning towards one more than the others."

"A whole year?" He repeated. "Of course you would have your entire life planned out so far in advance."

"It wasn't that hard. I already had the job offers –Ministry ones –before I returned to Hogwarts. I just wasn't sure which one I wanted."

Draco stared at her in awe. "You already had offers? Without your NEWTs?"

"War. Heroine." She enunciated clearly, taking a moment to relish in that title although most days she hated it. "It kind of gave me an edge in that arena. Plus I'd already been doing work for them trying to stable the government again."

"I suppose so…" Draco said with a stroke of his chin. "Why go back to Hogwarts then? You were already set."

"I wasn't finished. I don't do anything halfway, Malfoy. For me to just live my life knowing that I never finished getting an education in this wonderful world that I'm so lucky to be in, well…" Hermione shrugged. "It didn't feel right."

Draco couldn't help the curve of his lips as he stared at her. So passionate, she was.

"I get it." He nodded. "So, which job offers did you get?"

"Senior Magical Researcher, Auror, Junior Misuse of Magic Case Manager, and Judicial Advocate."

Draco whistled. "Well done. Looks like Senior Magical Researcher it is."

Hermione tilted her head. "Why?"

"You named it first." He said simply. "I was always told that whatever comes out of a person's mouth without thought is what he truly feels. It was on the forefront of your mind, Granger. You should do it."

Hermione bit the inside of her jaw. "Yeah?"

"Yes," He reassured.

"Well, Senior Magical Researcher it is."

"Good." Draco grinned. "And now that that's over, we have work to get done."

Hermione looked at him curiously. "Work?"

"Work, yes." He said as he stood and extended his hand to her. She took it without question as he led her out of the kitchen and through the suite. "We're in France and you don't know a lick of French."

"I know _some_ words." She argued as a she fought a blush. "Just not very many of them."

"Hence why you, Miss Granger," Draco said mischievously, "need a French lesson."

Hermione had been led to the bathroom and was gently urged to sit on the edge of the Jacuzzi. She watched as he turned on various taps and the water began to fill it. She was smiling.

"A French lesson in a bathroom? That's hardly conventional."

"Neither is a transfiguration lesson during sex."

She laughed. "And you got an Outstanding, didn't you?"

"And you'll get an O, too." His eyes flashed lustfully as he added, "Several of them."

Hermione's voice hitched in her throat. How in Merlin's name was he able to do that? It was just him talking. Just words. He hadn't even touched her. But when he did? Oh, when he did it was a completely different story.

Draco was standing directly in front of her. He suddenly reached over to turn off the taps, giving her the perfect opportunity to take in his scent again. He took her left hand and dipped it into the water.

"L'eau,"

Hermione knew this one, but she paid fervent attention anyway. Draco pulled back and took the hem of her shirt in his hand.

"Chemise," he said slowly as her shirt moved at the same rhythm on its journey from off of her persons and onto the floor. "Repeat after me."

"Chemise," She repeated, taking his shirt in her hands and lifting it off of him. With her eyes on his bare chest she wondered if it had really been that long since she'd seen him without clothes. The mere fact that she had asked herself that question had meant yes.

Draco set his hands on the rim of her pants, his thumbs running circles on her skin. Hermione resisted the urge to succumb to a welcomed shiver.

"Pantalon,"

He got down to his knees so he could slip them off one leg at a time. They, too, ended up on the floor. Hermione mimicked his actions, removing his underwear at the same time, and stooping low to the floor so that he could step out of his. Once up on her feet Draco's hands were on the sides of her face. He let them trail, mirror opposites of each other as they slipped down her neck, her shoulders, across her shoulder blades and near the center of her back. His fingers found the clasp of bra.

"Soutien-gorge,"

The bra fell to the floor easily. Just as bare-chested as he now, Draco's gaze had only grown more feral. His hands glided down her back and settled themselves on her hips. "Culotte,"

Hermione had expected his fingers to hook into the sides of her underwear and let them fall, but that wasn't what happened. Draco was on his knees again, and her purposefully-chosen emerald green undies were clasped between his teeth. He pulled them down all the while staring up at her predatorily. If only he knew just how close she was to buckling with all of his teasing. Perhaps he did, considering how his hands dug into her thighs. Soon his mouth had disappeared between them and Hermione's hands gripped the rim of the Jacuzzi harshly.

He stayed there for Merlin knew how long, eventually coming up to rest his lips on hers and kiss her deeply. He no longer tasted like wine.

"What was the French word for that?" Hermione asked breathlessly as Draco scattered kisses across her chest.

"Hmm," Draco mused, running tongue over her. "I almost forgot I was teaching you something."

Hermione chuckled. "You're a horrible teacher."

Draco's eyes flickered up to her. He smiled wickedly as her face contorted in a surprise sense of pleasure as he slipped himself into her without warning.

"Detention, Miss Granger."

Hermione threw her head back as punishment commenced. Who knew she would ever be a fan of detention?

* * *

 **Author's note:** Well, if I was Hermione, I wouldn't mind detention myself ;). I have to give thanks to **trinka belle** for mentioning in a past interview about DH possibly going somewhere for a bit of seclusion. Swiss Alps were mentioned, but I chose French for the lovely French lesson written above. That and I have a love of the language and it's the one I know second best lol. Although, of course I'm prone to errors since it's not my native tongue, so feel free to correct me if you like :).

ALSO! This story made it past 200 reviews since the last chapter! Thanks ever so much. And, fun fact, I just finished writing chapter 25. Stemming from a one-shot with no intentions of writing more, that's nuts.

Until the next chapter!

-WP


	17. Fading

The unlikely pair did eventually make it to the Jacuzzi. Hermione lay against him between his legs, her head resting on his chest. Draco's arms lazily draped around her, and he felt her fingers tracing his arm. His left arm, to be precise. It was a habit of hers to trace what was sort-of there. He often wondered if she would be so bold as to touch it if the remnants of his Dark Mark were still fresh and menacing –not this red and raw outline.

"It took up until the end of last summer for it to look like that." Draco said. Hermione's fingers froze momentarily, but they were soon back to its activities.

"I'm surprised. Well, maybe not. I had thought that it would've faded when Voldemort died." She explained. "But all of those Deatheaters that we rounded up...they still had theirs."

"Why aren't you surprised that mine is almost gone then?"

"Because," she said simply as she adjusted her head to look at him. "I have a strong inkling that you never wanted the Dark Mark in the first place. That's why it's fading. Things that are apart of you –that _are_ you –they never go away. It's like a limb. But it's leaving you because it doesn't have anything to cling to."

"Huh," Draco said softly, processing her words. It was almost poetic the way she described it.

But she was wrong. At least partly.

He had wanted it. He had been glad to sign up for it. The Mark had been applied to his skin as easily as all the others. It had become one with him. However, because the Mark was fresh, there had been adverse effects when he had learned of the task Voldemort had wanted him to do. Kill Albus Dumbledore? _Dumbledore?_ It had been a task to set him up to fail and the Dark Mark knew his opposition. It would hurt him _terribly_. It would burn all day and night because he didn't welcome it.

With Hermione's words swimming around his head, he assumed now that the last part of what she said held true. The war was over. Voldemort was dead. Draco had been properly turned off from all of the atrocious ideas Deatheaters had after having been sickened and burdened by them. Yes, what did the Dark Mark have to cling to? Nothing but skin, and so it would fade.

"Would it have bothered you?" Draco suddenly asked. "My Mark, if it wasn't disappearing?"

She thought for a moment before answering. "It would have, yes. I… That night in your Manor when Bellatrix tortured me? She had rolled up her sleeves some to do it, and I saw it then. It haunted me for quite a bit after that."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't." She admonished. "You're not allowed to apologize for something you didn't do."

Draco opened his mouth to contest, but closed it almost immediately. His mother's words of _"You can't take on the responsibility of the world,"_ kept ringing in his ears. He supposed he would have to relent just this once.

"Malfoy," Hermione said hesitantly. "Could I ask you for a favor?"

Draco looked down at her. Her chest was barely covered by the water and it was making him amorous all over again. "Asking for favors after we've had sex?" He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. "That's very Slytherin of you."

Hermione laughed. "Well… I need you to have dinner with my parents and me."

 _Hmm, definitely wasn't expecting her to say that…_

"It's just that they keep pestering me about the 'mysterious blond man' who was fawning over their daughter at the graduation."

Draco raised his brows although she couldn't see it. "Did they actually use the word 'fawning?'"

"Does it matter?"

"No, no, I suppose not." Draco said, a deep breath following shortly after. Meeting the parents. Such an action had never crossed his path before. He'd also never been in a relationship before. He'd also never been involved with a woman for this long _period._ He did a quick calculation in his head. They had officially gotten together –or rather mutually decided to see each other regularly –in January. It was June now.

Six months.

They'd been with each other for six months.

A slow smile spread across his face at the thought of it. It was wiped away quickly, however, when a discouraging notion crossed his head.

"Have you told them about me?" Draco asked.

"I gave them your name."

"What else? Did you tell them specific things about me?"

Hermione craned her neck some and stared at him oddly. "Not much. It would've been quite the long conversation otherwise. Why are you-?"

"No, not now. I mean...about me _before._ Before when I was still…"

Hermione frowned. She readjusted herself so that her whole body was facing him. "I have, yes. It's the reason why it would've been a long conversation had I gone into details."

Draco bit the inside of his jaw. "What did they say then when you told them my name?"

"They were...surprised, at first."

"At first?"

Hermione nodded, taking her wet hand and brushing back some of his hair from his face. "And then they were impressed. They wanted to know more about the man who used to make their daughter cry but now makes her blush like an idiot."

Draco laughed, a small one, but a laugh nonetheless.

"See, Malfoy?" Hermione said as she sat on him –an action that they both knew would lead elsewhere. "Not everyone is willing to dismiss you so quickly."

Draco closed his eyes and breathed her in, letting his hands slide past her thighs, up her sides, and across her back so that he could hold her close. She felt so slick in his arms like this, her body shining from the water. He almost thought that she would slip right from him. But they were connected again for the second time in under three hours, and Draco let his head loll back.

Hermione had a touch that rendered him useless. When she was like this, on top of him, riding away what was left of his self-loathing, he could do nothing but succumb. Nothing but keep his arms wrapped around her, emit moans and groans that would only spur her on faster, and listen to her own purrs of satisfaction as she brought him over the edge.

She was, undeniably, both his weakness _and_ his strength.

* * *

 **Author's note:** A short, somewhat filler chapter. But where there are fillers, comes drama after (*Slytherin smirk*).

ALSO, I must say that your reviews for the previous chapter made me smile and laugh SO MUCH. You honestly have no idea. It was great :D.

-WP


	18. Professionalism

Hermione and Draco had been gone Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and returned to England early Monday morning. The brunette honestly didn't know when the last time she'd had a vacation. If it wasn't school, it was a war. If it wasn't a war, it was dealing with the repercussions from that war. If it wasn't war cleanup, it was school all over again. The weekend had been...amazing from beginning to end and neither she nor Draco had wanted it to be over. They had made arrangements then that would always be kept. Dinner, whether somewhere secluded or at her apartment, Monday through Friday. Lunch, Saturdays and Sundays, seeing as dinner was reserved for the Weasleys (Draco cringed) and Hermione's parents, respectively. Every night was a sleepover –that went without saying. And, consequently, so did breakfast every morning.

That same Monday Hermione had decided to go with Draco's advice and accept the standing offer of Senior Magical Researcher. It was actually quite exciting, the more she thought about it, because it held so many benefits. Not only did it play to her strengths, but the Ministry's Research Department was an interdisciplinary one. Everyone who worked there floated in and out of other departments that needed their services. This, in essence, would quench Hermione's thirst of being an Auror or working in the Department of Wizard Law. It was perfect.

Lena Hornsby, the Department Head, was thrilled to hear the news and told her that she could start as soon as tomorrow. "You can help out the Auror Department," she had said. "Someone's dropping off cursed objects everywhere and your co-workers can make heads or tails of them."

And so, that's what brought Hermione here, to the Auror Department, getting debriefed on things so she could get straight to work the next day.

"-and that's about it, really." Auror Warren finished. "I'll have the Aurors working on the case send copies of their files to you. Oh, and you'll need access to the vault too-"

"No worries on the vault." Hermione told him. "I already had access to it."

He stared at her briefly, perhaps suppressing a snort, and nodded. "Right. I'm sure you did."

Hermione ignored it. As cordial as she tried to be with this man, he always seemed to have some sort of grudge. He was older than her, perhaps by five years, maybe six, but he wore his superiority as though he had greys on his head. He didn't take kindly to the fact that she (and by consequence her friends) were treated like "royalty" (to use his term). Hermione didn't approve of such favoritism either, but it was a natural thing to happen. She, Harry, and Ron, everyone in the Order and Dumbledore's Army, had been part of the front line during the war. They had played a pivotal part in reshaping the Ministry back to what it used to be –even better. No, Ron wasn't working for the Ministry, but he had an honorary card here much as she had before she officially got hired that afternoon. And Harry, although Auror Warren's position could have very well been his, despite his age, had turned it down for the very reason Hermione hadn't accepted any job offers until now. He had wanted to earn it.

Auror Warren should've been grateful that that was the case.

"Thanks again," Hermione said politely as she stood. The man nodded, instantly getting back into work mode and turned his gaze to his desk. It was as she was leaving, though, that something caught her eye at the corner of his desk. Her brows furrowed.

"What is this?" Hermione asked as she picked up a file. Draco's name was on it. She didn't want to think the worst but…

Auror Warren glanced up from his work to see what she was referring to and then went back to his writing. "An application for the Auror Training Program,"

"Is it really…?" She asked as she inspected it more closely. And yes, indeed, the file did have those very words written on the front. It was still puzzling, however –especially as she looked over to the pile where other applications seemed to be. "Why isn't this opened?"

"Who said it hasn't been looked at?"

"Don't belittle me, Quintin." Hermione scowled. "The seal isn't broken. That means this application has been sitting on your desk for _weeks_ without so much as a once-over."

"Oh, I gave it a once-over alright." Auror Warren said as he set his quill down. He sat back in his seat and gestured his head to the file in her hand. "All I had to do was read the name on top to decide that Malfoy wasn't Auror material."

Hermione's anger flared. "Wasn't Auror material? Are you kidding me? You haven't even looked at his scores! Not his NEWTs nor the written exam! This is discrimination!"

"Discrimination? Hermione, you know very well that no supporter of You-Know-Who can hold a position as an Auror _by law_."

"Yes, I know. I _wrote_ that law." Hermione sneered. "And its subsections state that a supporter _can_ in fact hold an Auror position if at least five years has passed since the conclusion of the punishment for their crimes, and within that time he or she hasn't been arrested for any misdemeanor, no matter the infraction.

'If you're going to quote something by me, you could at least get it right." She added angrily as she slapped Draco's file down on Auror Warren's desk. He merely continued to stare at her.

"I don't think anything you said applies to Malfoy."

"Of course it doesn't! He was _exonerated_. As such he legally can't be looked down as a criminal."

"And yet," Auror Warren smiled, "he was still a known You-Know-Who supporter –indicted or not. It's that one little loophole that can let that file rot on my desk. Or better yet, in the trash."

Auror Warren reached forward for the file, but Hermione quickly snatched it up.

"What you're doing is wrong, and you know it."

"You only care because he's between your legs every night."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. " _Excuse me?_ "

"You heard me." Auror Warren said sternly. "You wouldn't be fighting me on this if you weren't sleeping with him."

Hermione's jaw had dropped. She was so taken aback that she had almost lost her words.

Almost.

"Now, you listen to me Quintin Alabaster Warren." Hermione said with a finger raised. "My personal life has _nothing_ to do with this. Wrong is wrong. Period. No exceptions. You're letting your personal feelings get in the way of this."

Auror Warren's eyes narrowed. "I have no personal feelings involved."

Hermione's brow raised. "Oh no? I suppose this has nothing to do with your cousin getting kidnapped during the war, tortured, and subsequently killed at Malfoy Manor?"

Auror Warren shot up out of his seat, effectively knocking it back. "Don't you dare bring that up, Hermione! Don't you dare!"

"Too late!" Hermione shot back at him. "You're not the only one who's had bad things happen to! You've obviously forgotten that I was tortured at Malfoy Manor –by Malfoy's aunt no less while he _watched_. If I can look past that and still, as you so crassly put it, have him between my legs every night, then you can look past what happened to you and your family. Now," she said as she raised Draco's file. "You _will_ look at this and seriously consider it."

"I won't." He said defiantly, crossing his arms for good measure.

Hermione huffed. "Fine, have it your way. My law has loopholes, yes? Well, I'll have you know that Marcus Flint was a supporter, never indicted, and he currently works in the Auror Department, Muggle Protection Division. If he could get in, then so can Malfoy."

Auror Warren looked like he was ready to spit fire. It probably didn't help that Hermione's smile was taunting him.

"Don't make Kingsley regret making you Auror Head, Quintin." Hermione said as she put Draco's file on top of what he'd been working on when she'd come in. "Do your job correctly, and don't _ever_ bring up my personal life again. I'll be sure not to do the same with yours."

* * *

 **Author's note:** Feisty, feisty, Hermione ;). Sticking up for her Draco while simultaneously putting Auror Warren in his place! Oh, I just love her.

Thanks for reading as always!

-WP


	19. Dinner

"You look tense."

"What?"

"I said," Harry repeated. "You look tense."

Hermione frowned. She took a deep breath and realized just how limited her movements really were and regrettably had to agree with her friend.

"It's Quintin's fault." She grumbled. "The man riled me up this afternoon and I just...argh! Why did Kingsley make him Auror Head again?"

"Aside from my refusal?" Harry shrugged. "He was qualified. _Is_ qualified. He was a better fit than me anyway since he'd already been an Auror when the war broke out. For me to take it would've been-"

"Pure favoritism and you didn't want to get the job that way." Hermione smiled. "I know. Ron and I were there when you turned it down."

Harry grinned sheepishly as he took a sip of his Butterbeer. "So, what did he do exactly other than being, well, _him?_ "

"He seemed to be having quite the hard time being a professional." She scowled, then paused before speaking as she knew very well Harry wasn't yet privy to this information. "Malfoy had filled out an Auror application. It was just sitting, gathering dust on Quintin's desk while all the other applications had already been looked at."

Harry sat frozen.

Hermione had the decency to stare into her own glass just to avoid her best friend's gaze.

"Malfoy wants to be an Auror?"

She looked up. "He does."

"Wow, that's...wow."

Quiet fell. They both continued drinking without speaking for a while and Hermione wasn't sure if she wanted to know what inner thoughts were behind the furrowing of Harry's brow, the finger tap on his chin, or the biting of his inner jaw.

"You don't think he was right, do you?" Hermione suddenly asked. "To not look at Malfoy's application?"

Harry sighed. "I want to say yes, but the professional in me won't do it. All personal feelings aside, by law he's not a criminal, and so he has every right to apply for any Ministry position he wants."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh Harry, I'm so glad to hear you say that-"

"How were his NEWTs?"

"Impeccable,"

"His written exam?"

"Flawless,"

"Which Division does he want?"

Hermione fidgeted in her seat. "Dark Arts,"

" _What?_ "

"He'd be useful there, and you know it." She argued politely. "No one knows as much as he does in that area and, like he told me, he could put it to good use. And you can't forget that once he passes the training then-"

"The Department can't stop him," Harry ended. "Yes. I guess the only thing that can really put on a damper on things is if his Auror trainer is a complete madman."

Hermione's heart sank. "Oh no… Please, _please_ tell me that Quintin isn't the trainer this time. _Please_ , Harry."

Harry laughed a little. "It's not."

"Thank Merlin,"

"It's me."

"You?" Hermione couldn't fight her enthusiasm. "They handed the training off to _you?_ "

"My name came up in the rotation." Harry replied humbly. "So, there it is."

"That's fantastic! I'm so happy for you! You'll make an excellent trainer. Everyone benefited from Dumbledore's Army, so I'm sure-"

"I won't take it easy on Malfoy just because you guys are seeing each other."

Hermione's face fell. "I… I wasn't going to ask you to. It wouldn't be fair to the other trainees."

"Good," Harry said, a bit of guilt easing in at having to say that. "But I won't go crazy on him just because of who he is either. It'd make me no better than Quintin if I did."

"That and I'd never forgive you." Hermione added.

"Very true," he nodded. "It'll be fine, Hermione. As much as it pains me to say, we both know he's talented. He'll make it through. The only person you should be worried about right now is me."

"You? But why-?"

"This has nothing to do with Malfoy or the training or anything, but…" Harry nervously twiddled his thumbs. "There's something that I want to do and I'm absolutely _terrified_ about doing it."

Hermione stared at him in concern. "What is it?"

Harry didn't answer right away. Instead he dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He opened it, showing off a ring inside.

"Do you think she'll say yes?"

Hermione squealed with delight. "Why Harry Potter!" She got up from her seat and hugged him tightly. "Don't you dare worry. Ginny will say yes, Harry. I promise you she will."

* * *

Draco had never rode in a taxi before, so what could he say of his first experience?

He hated the damn thing.

It was small and it made him claustrophobic. It had a funny odor that wasn't masked in the slightest by this Christmas tree-like thing Hermione told him was an air freshener. There was this glass that separated them from the driver which made him feel even _more_ trapped. And to think, turns of that circle and whatever the man upfront was pushing with his feet was what kept them all between life and death.

He nearly kissed the ground when they got out. " _Please_ tell me that we can apparate to go back home?"

They were going back to Hermione's apartment after having dinner with her parents. The fact that Draco had called it "home" sent such a delight through her that was even better than when he showered her with affection.

"Yes, we're apparating to get back. And I should have you know that statistics show more accidents happen with magical modes of transportation than muggle ones."

Draco snorted. "Where did you hear that tripe?"

"Muggle Studies Department at the Ministry."

"Ah yes, _of course._ "

Draco observed her bright smile as she linked her arm with his. If she was nervous about this dinner, then he wouldn't have known it. As for him, on the other hand, his stomach was in awful knots. He knew that her parents were willing to give him a try, but he couldn't help but think that this would be a disaster. What if he said something wrong? What if he _did_ something wrong? What if they ended up telling him, " _Well, we're glad to see that you're a changed man, but still, it would be better if you never saw our daughter again."_ What would he do then?

And then there was the fact that her parents were muggles. Not that he had a problem with them -anymore. Perhaps he would be a little less nerve-wrecked if they were magical. _Certainly_ , if they were pureblooded. Even if he had never formally met a woman's parents before, at least he would know how to act around them (the pureblood-bred brat that he was). He'd know the proper topics to broach, how to formally address her parents, trinkets to bring to appease them, and to simply be an all-around gentleman. He had _none_ of that going for him here except knowing how to be polite. And despite Hermione telling him that he didn't have to bring anything to give to her parents, he felt horribly awkward walking up the garden path empty-handed.

"Relax," Hermione gently urged as she knocked. Draco took a deep breath and held it for much longer than necessary. He only let it out when the front door began to open.

"Hermione!" Her mother greeted. She pulled the younger version of herself into her arms and Draco immediately felt naked without her. "You're right on time. I was just about to start mincing vegetables."

" _Mum_ ," Hermione groaned. "You know I hate doing that."

"Which is why it's precisely the right punishment for keeping this dashing young man a secret all this time." Mrs. Granger said as she turned her eyes onto Draco. Luckily his widened eyes at her statement had returned to normal before she got a good look at him. "Sweetheart, won't you introduce us?"

"Uh, right, yes, well... Draco, this is my mother Jean Granger. Mum, this is…" Hermione stalled. It was short. A quick little thing that anyone would've missed had not Draco been so observant. But he caught it, and held onto it, but let it all go when she continued to say, "My boyfriend, Draco Malfoy."

Boyfriend.

 _Boyfriend._

 _ **Boy-friend.**_

She had never called him that before. Not once. Not in their entire six months of their dating, their relationship, their... _whatever._ His heart pounded in his chest at that, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. He had robotically held out his hand to her and smiled as charmingly as he could, feeling his insides squirm. Interestingly, not at the term Hermione had just used. Rather, it was the fact that he was shaking a woman's hand. Malfoys, purebloods _period_ , never did this. It was always a brief, chaste kiss on the back of her hand. He had resisted strongly the urge to do just that or else he was sure he'd make the woman fluster at his formality and think him odd.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Granger."

"Likewise, Draco." She smiled broadly. "And please, call me Jean. Well, let's get inside!"

Mrs. Granger ushered the pair into the house where the smell of food instantly hit Draco's nose. He found it impressive, honestly, that human hands could make something just as good as an elf. He'd been at the mercy of Hermione's food for breakfast every day since they returned from Chamonix and he'd yet to be disappointed.

"Dad, what on earth are you doing?!" Hermione admonished. Her father was sitting in an armchair and reading a muggle newspaper. Draco could only assume that what she was objecting to was the pipe that he had between his lips.

Well, not anymore. He had promptly yanked it from his mouth and outed it.

"Jean! You couldn't have warned me?"

Mrs. Granger rolled her eyes. It was so reminiscent of Draco's brunette that he tried to hold back his laugh.

"I thought you heard the doorbell and would know to put it out."

"Mum!" Hermione rounded on her. "You _let_ him smoke that thing? Knowing _precisely_ what it would do to his teeth?"

 _Huh. Teeth._ Draco did remember her saying something about her parents' career having to do with teeth. It made him shiver. Going into people's mouths. _Their_ _ **mouths**_. He hoped they got paid well for it.

"He's going to do it anyway." Mrs. Granger shrugged in her daughter's direction. Hermione groaned and slapped the palm of her hand on her forehead.

Holding in that laugh was an utter impossibility now. He stopped when he felt her hand slap his.

"Come now, darling." Mr. Granger grinned as he stood. "Don't be rude to him. It's nice to meet you, son. I'm David."

"Draco. It's a pleasure." He said as he shook his hand. Now this, although not exactly how males of the social elite greeted one another, he could deal with comfortably.

"Come Hermione, dear." Mrs. Granger addressed as she took her by the hand. "Let's get started on those vegetables."

"But-?"

"The sooner we work on them, the sooner they'll be done."

Hermione locked eyes with Draco before her mother calmly pulled her out of the living room and through a door that must have led to the kitchen. With the way that she was looking at him, he knew that she didn't want to leave just because she had an odd opposition to chopping legumes. He knew it was because he'd be left alone.

Draco took a deep breath, doing his best to keep up a calm facade all the while his insides were crumbling.

"They shouldn't be long." Mr. Granger reassured. "Sit?"

Draco nodded and sat down in an identical chair to Hermione's father. Sitting should have calmed his nerves. On the contrary he became even more on edge.

"So, do you love my daughter?"

"What?" Draco asked with wide eyes. Was he serious? Did he really want an answer? What answer would he give?

Mr. Granger laughed. He laughed deeply, even going so far as to slap his knee and wipe a tear from his eye. "It's alright, you don't have to answer that. You looked a little tense and I couldn't resisting poking at you. Forgive me."

"Oh," Draco swallowed. "No, no, it's fine. Both you and your daughter seem to have a knack for giving me heart attacks."

Mr. Granger grinned. "Yes, that's my little girl. On a serious note though, I really do hope that you care for her. In the past she used to mention you and...it wasn't very good what she would say."

"I'm aware." Draco frowned. "But I promise that I'm nothing like I used to be. Gr- _Hermione_ , wouldn't be with me otherwise."

"My and my wife's thoughts exactly." Mr. Granger nodded. "Make sure you stay good to her."

"I will. You have my word on that."

* * *

Dinner went well.

Hermione's parents were much more tolerant of him than Draco expected which allowed him to become at ease. Mr. Granger, so it seemed, had a voracious appetite for the magical world much like Weasley's father had of everything muggle. Much to the annoyance of Hermione and her mother, Draco had captured Mr. Granger's rapt attention on the topic of Quidditch. In turn, the blond became equally interested in how Quidditch was similar to a variety of muggle sports.

"Wait, wait, so you have to _run_ towards the hoop?" Draco was asking him. "While drobbling?"

"Dribbling," Mr. Granger corrected. "Yes."

"I don't understand how you find _that_ easier than flying with a ball in your hand."

"On a broom you have to balance, don't you? A hand on the handle, the other holding a ball, and you're dodging all sorts of things."

"If you have to dodge then you've got a lousy set of Beaters on your team." Draco pointed out. "While in that basket...whatever you could trip over your feet or someone else in a millisecond."

"Huh," Mr. Granger smiled. "Well, if basketball bothers you, let me tell you about American Football…"

Hermione, to say the least, was pleased. She and her mother left the men to continue their talk of sports while they went into the kitchen to clean up.

" _They tackle each other?!"_ She heard Draco say and outright laughed at the sink. Mrs. Granger also shook her head at the comment.

"Men and sports," Mrs. Granger sighed happily. "A bridge across cultures, magical and muggle alike."

"You said it." Hermione agreed.

"He really is a lovely young man, Hermione."

"I know."

"Do you…? Do you see it going somewhere?"

Hermione momentarily stopped her movements. "Going somewhere?"

"I know you, sweetheart." Mrs. Granger said gently. "Your mind is always months ahead. More than that even. You've never thought about the future?"

"Mum, it's only been six months." Hermione said hesitantly. "But...to be honest? Yes, I suppose I have. And yet at the same time, Mal- _Draco_ , is the first thing I've ever had to make me live in the moment. To not worry and to shrug off consequences and...I really like that."

Mrs. Granger put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "I'm glad, Hermione. I'm really glad."

* * *

 **Author's note:** So, I've had this chapter written for weeks and I was so happy to finally post it. My favorite line: _They tackle each other?!_ I know I'm the one who wrote it, but I swear I nearly rolled over in hysterics as I did haha. Hope you found it as amusing as I did. Quick thanks to **trinka belle** for pointing out that yes, Draco was raised as a pureblood traditionalist. Of course, he's not off torturing muggleborns or anything, but it's kind of hard shaking off etiquette. That's why I added in a few moments of his discomfort. I could've added more, but also didn't want that to be the primary feel of the chapter. I loved adding in those tidbits though! :)

Also, Hermione called Draco her boyfriend... Labels! Labels! Not conventional, but more chapters to follow of course.

 **AND!** One annoying thing: I got all of your reviews for chapter 18, BUT they're not showing up here :(. Thanks to facebook rec groups, I found out there was problem with the site. Luckily I get them emailed to me! So, if you don't mind, I'll reply to them here. Feel free to find your penname below for my response :). If I missed you by accident, sorry! I had to sort through my email to get to these lol. And still review, will you? I think the site is fine now, and at the very least I'll still be able to read them. Thanks!

 **pgoodrichboggs** : Oh, wouldn't it be great if Harry was Auror Head? Auror Warren just made me utterly furious. He should be ashamed of himself, honestly. But GO, HERMIONE, GO!

 **Beetle126** : Thanks! I'm glad that you like the way I portray Hermione. I really do work hard on my characterizations, so that means a lot :)

 **VitaAiur** : Hahahaha! Yes! I agree! I think we all need to just get on the sidelines and cheer Hermione on. Sending the love right back at ya!

 **Grovek26** : *Shakes pom-poms* Go, Hermione! Glad that you liked the chapter :D

 **Dolphin02** : Haha, I'd love to hang Warren by his ankles myself... He's just a downright terrible person.

 **LeahLupin** : Thank you! I'm really glad that you like it! Hope that you continue reading :D

 **hoshiakari7** : Cheers! Cheers! Hermione definitely gets my support with this one!

 **SereniteRose** : I wouldn't put it past Warren to be like that in the slightest! I feel like Hermione's the kind of person to fight for anyone in the wrong (S.P.E.W. case and point). The fact that it was Draco being shunned? Well, hell hath no fury... as the saying goes ;)

 **tmtcltb** : Hermione cares for Draco. Definitley. For him to be so unfairly mistreated was more than enough to ruffle her feathers. That Warren should be ashamed, truly. And as for Draco, well, what he doesn't know won't hurt him. I'll just leave that there and zip my lip...

 **Giminia Wow** : Hahaha! Yes! I love when readers start yelling at their screens. That means I'm doing something right! :D. And nope, not weird to want to harm a fictional character. One word: Umbridge.

 **Sachiko Heiwajima** : Nope, not right at all! Good thing Hermione managed to spot that file, honestly. And then she emotionally and verbally hexed the crap out of Warren. Such pleasure :)

 **jperks** : I love a good feisty Hermione myself :). Another chapter soon as always!

 **Myrddin Emrys The Third** : Yey! Glad you thought so!

 **LightofEvolution** : Oh yeah, that line lol. Warren crossed the threshold with that one, but Hermione definitely let him know that that was **not** okay and took him down a peg or two. Yes! And you're right. Now we've got to figure out if Draco actually gets into the program! Just because Hermione snapped at Warren doesn't necessarily means that the war is won!

 **trinka belle** : Nope, nope, never make Hermione mad. Obviously Warren doesn't know any better! If Draco could've been there to see that, he probably would've exploded on the spot in disbelief. To have someone fight THAT strongly for him? Crazy.


	20. Vandalized

At the end of the night Draco found himself feeling happy. Before he and Hermione left, she took him outside in the backyard, an arm through his and a wide smile on her face.

"You and my dad seemed to have hit it off pretty well. And my mother loves you."

"What can I say?" Draco shrugged. "I'm charming."

"A little bit,"

Draco laughed, pulling her close. "So…" He said with that annoying, yet endearing smirk of his. "I'm your boyfriend, am I?"

Hermione felt herself turn red. "Well, I couldn't very well introduce you as my 'friend,' could I?" She said casually and then suddenly became very subconscious and began fidgeting with strands of her hair. "Was that…? I hope that was okay. I know we haven't discussed it, and that I kind of sprung it on you, and in hindsight I _really_ should've talked to you about it beforehand, but-"

"Granger," he politely interrupted. Hermione immediately stopped talking and walking altogether, looking up at him with wide, worrisome eyes. It was now more than ever that he thought of her as something feline. She could be fierce one minute like the lion of Gryffindor House, and then soft and innocent like a kitten –like right now. Draco smiled and brushed the back of his fingers across her cheek.

"It's fine." Draco said. "Besides, you've been my girlfriend for quite some time already, don't you think?" He added boldly. His heart raced at that. Was it too forward? Sure, she had called him her boyfriend, but despite the term "girlfriend" having the same connotation, he still found himself anxious at her response. He seemed to have been waiting a millennia for her reply.

Hermione nervously laughed. "It seems so."

Draco sighed a breath of relief as he placed her hands on the side of her face and kissed her. Her hands slid over his and they just stood there, in the middle of her parents' yard, fighting hard to keep their affections tame as they bared in mind where they were.

"We should go." Hermione said as she slowly pulled away. Draco agreed, and they left, bidding her parents farewell and with a promise that they'd be back for dinner again soon.

When they apparated back to her apartment, ready to escalate their previous behavior, they halted. Something was wrong. Hermione used her wand to turn on the lights and she gasped at what she saw.

Ripped open couch cushions. Broken windows. Turned over chairs and tables. Destroyed vases, photographs, and paintings. And, worst off, on one of the walls, "Deatheater Lover" was scrawled.

"Go back to your parents." Draco told her.

Hermione, close to tears, began shaking her head. "No, I-"

"Granger, for once in your life do what someone else has told you to do!" He rounded on her. His words had shaken her, but Hermione nodded, pulling his lips down to hers quickly before disapparating. If her parents had any muggles over at the time, they would simply have to have their memories modified.

Draco's eyes focused on the words that were left big and bold for Hermione to see.

So much for their perfect evening.

With a sigh Draco went over to the fireplace. He grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and forced words out of his mouth that he never thought he'd say. "Harry Potter Residence,"

He was whisked away quickly and found himself tumbling out into a living room. No one was there and so he opened his mouth in a decision to wake the whole house.

"Potter! Potter! Get your arse out here!"

He heard rustling from his left, perhaps from the kitchen, and smirked some when he saw the man in question running in wearing a set of striped pajamas.

"Nice getup," the blond teased. "Didn't know you were still twelve."

"What the hell are you doing in my house?" Harry questioned, crossing his arms over his chest. It looked very much like he was trying to hide his nightwear instead of adopting an imposing look.

"You need to come with me." Draco said seriously. "Granger's apartment was ransacked."

Harry's arms fell. "What?"

"Ransacked, tossed, torn apart –whatever you want to call it. Just put some better clothes on so we can go."

"Where's Hermione?"

"With her parents. She wanted to stay, but I…" Draco sighed. "I didn't want her to be there if she was a target."

Harry's face paled. "What do you mean a target?"

"Get dressed and you'll find out."

* * *

Draco hated to admit it, but Potter was a good Auror. The moment he had seen Hermione's apartment he had owled in for backup. Her apartment was in a seventy-five percent muggle neighborhood, so in addition to the three Aurors who came to seal off her apartment and to search through it, there were two others who were accompanied by MCCs –Magical Cleanup Crew. People needed to be questioned and their memories would be properly erased and modified afterwards.

The messy-haired man was thorough, and yet he stared at the slur etched onto the wall the longest with a deep frown on his face.

"She can't come back here." Draco said as he stood next to Harry. The Auror grunted, but didn't look at him.

"I know. But just because she finds somewhere new to stay, it doesn't mean this will stop."

Draco's brows furrowed. "What do you mean-?"

"Look at what it says, Malfoy." Harry said as he gestured to the wall. " _Deatheater_ lover. That's what it says. Those feelings aren't just shared by one nut-job. There are others –some that are harmless and others that aren't."

Draco's face turned hard. "Exactly what are you saying, Potter? That I should leave Granger alone to keep her safe? Because if you are then you can forget it-"

"I wish that's what I was saying." He sighed. "But I know Hermione and she's not going to let you go." Harry turned to him, his face just as stern as the blond before him. "What I _am_ saying is that both you and Hermione chose this. These," he pointed to the wall and to the entirety of the apartment, "are the consequences. I'm less worried about your safety than hers-"

"Gee, thanks, Potter," Draco sneered. Harry scowled.

"Not because I dislike you, Malfoy. Unlike you, Hermione doesn't live in a fortified mansion. Yes, people hate you, but not many are stupid enough to go up against you. That's not the case for Hermione, and you know it. So, as I was saying, you damn well better be able to protect her. Auror badge or not."

Draco's eyes narrowed at him. "What was that last part?"

"You heard me." Harry said smoothly. "You should be getting your official training letter on Friday. It starts that Monday, on the first. And a word of advice from your training instructor," he said with a small smile, "try not to piss off the other trainees, will you?"

Draco smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it. Besides, there's only one person in that room I plan on showing up. And that's you."

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head, muttering nothing but insults under his breath.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Everything was going a little too well for something not to fall apart. And here goes the shoe that dropped. At least on the bright side Draco got into Auror training!

Oh, and a HUGE THANKS to you guys. 300+ followers since the last chapter! That's the most I've gotten for any story, so wahoo!

Until the next chapter :)

-WP


	21. Doubts

After three hours Hermione's apartment was empty again with the exception of Draco. Potter and the Aurors had gathered everything they had needed so he put his wand to work and began fixing what he could. For what he couldn't he threw out or neatly put aside in case there was a muggle way of going about it and Hermione could somehow salvage it. The last thing he attempted to repair was the wall that still had that awful moniker. He sighed, raising his wand to it, but abruptly turned around with it raised when he heard the sound of apparation behind him.

Draco put a hand on his chest and let out a deep breath. "Merlin, Granger, I could've attacked you! What are you even doing here? I told you to go to your parents."

Hermione crossed her arms. "You didn't tell me that I had to stay there."

"I had to tell you that?" He groaned a little and ran his hands through his hair. Hermione stared at him and then she looked around the living room.

"You fixed my apartment."

He nodded. "I did. I wish I had gotten a chance to fix _that_ though before you could see it again."

Hermione could see the " _that_ " Draco was referring to. She drew closer to him, standing by his side as she read the words up close. She frowned.

"I can't believe someone would go as far as to destroy my apartment and write something like this."

"There are crazy people out there." Draco said simply. "I just hope that there's no one crazier than this. If something were to happen to you because of me-"

"Stop." Hermione said forcefully. "Don't think that way."

"How can I not? I mean, _look!_ "

"I know, Malfoy, I do. But if I had turned away from every challenging experience in my life then winning the war would've been _a lot_ harder than it was. This is just…" Hermione bit her bottom lip. "This is just another war we have to win."

Draco stared at her. Her serious expression. Her watchful and expectant eyes. She was a stubborn witch, he had to give her that. Eventually he conceded.

"You're a sore loser, aren't you?"

Hermione smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding him tight. "Yes."

* * *

Hermione ended up staying with Harry. She had insisted that she was fine, but both he and Draco fought her on it saying that until the person who had vandalized her apartment was caught, that she shouldn't be there. Draco had taken the liberty to ward Hermione's apartment. Brilliant as she was, she could be a bit naïve to the dangers of the world despite how much better it was now that Voldemort was gone. That said, he found it astounding that she hadn't had one set of protection wards over her apartment –mostly muggle neighborhood or not.

As the week went on, day after day with no luck as to finding the criminal, Draco became more on edge. He kept thinking, "What next?" Was someone going to track her down and attack her? Lure her into an alley and threaten her? Obviously the person who had it against her now was a non-Voldemort supporter, but what if the next incident _did_ involve a supporter? It would sure enough be more than just some words written on a wall.

Draco shivered.

Nothing had been able to ease his distress. Not Hermione, because she _was_ the source of his discontent –or at least her safety was. Not the fact that his Auror training letter had come earlier that day. Not even how delighted she had been when he had told her it was coming or the congratulatory romp when the letter had flown in through their hotel room's window. He had gotten a room for them last night because he was sick and tired of having to traipse through Potter's house just to see her. They would be staying there again tonight. At least he had that to look forward to.

"You know, mate, the idea is to eat _before_ you get all liquored up. Not after."

Draco merely grunted. "Sobering Up Potion before I go back. Granger will be none-the-wiser."

Theo shrugged, although his curious eye never left his friend. "So she doesn't know then that you've been drowning your tension away with burning brews?" He chuckled. "Some attentive girlfriend you've got there."

"She's very attentive, thank you." Draco snapped. "She knows I'm upset just fine. Drop it."

"Fair enough, fair enough. Although, you should learn to rein in those emotions of yours. When something like what happened to Granger happens again, you can't afford to fall apart."

Draco stilled his glass on its journey to his mouth. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. You think that'll be the last time they'll try something again?"

" _They?_ " Draco's eyes narrowed. "Are you telling me that you know who vandalized Granger's apartment?"

"No," Theo said, and then added evasively, "Simply that I might have heard a rumor."

"Tell me." Draco ordered. "Tell me right now."

"So you can do what?" Theo challenged. "Ruffle them up? Send a hex or two?" He huffed, then smirked a little. "Your girlfriend wouldn't like that much, I bet. So convinced that you're a changed man and all."

"I am."

"Then act like it. I'm not going to tell you what I may or may not know just so you can do something stupid."

Draco frowned and then relaxed. He motioned for the bartender to fill his glass and he downed it in seconds. It was refilled just as fast too.

"I'll give the information to Potter." Theo said after some minutes passed. "Anonymously, of course."

"Of course,"

More minutes ticked by. They were at the Leaky Cauldron, taking up the habit of drinking and chatting as they always did from time to time. Theo worked for a couple retailers and travelled often to trade and procure goods. It was legitimate…for the most part.

"Do I have to tell you that you and Granger dating is-?"

"No, so don't. I've had more than enough people jumping down my throat about it."

"Your mother, I presume?"

The blond shook his head. "Not in the normal sense at least, no. But aside from her, the only person really on my side with this is Blaise."

"Ah yes, _Blaise._ Why am I not surprised? He's a dreamer. An optimist. He thinks you can do whatever you put your mind to if you try hard enough."

Draco scoffed. "So what does that make you? A pessimist?"

"It makes me a realist." Theo said simply. "Granger doesn't belong in our world, and you know it."

" _Our_ world?" Draco half-sneered. "Last I checked, Nott, I wasn't the one dabbling in foreign and _illegal_ goods in my spare time."

"And last I checked I was never once a Deatheater."

The blond's teeth clamped down, _hard_. " _Exonerated_. _Exonerated_ Deatheater. Why does everyone seem to forget that?"

"Because they don't care." Theo told him. "Once a Deatheater, always a Deatheater."

Draco's stomach churned at his words. He could feel himself wanting to let his shoulders droop, his head sagging right along with them. However, the last time he had done that Hermione had promptly lifted his head up, warning him that if he ever did it again she would simply have to hex him. He smiled at the memory of it.

"There's one witch who cares." He said before finishing off his drink. "Once Granger does why should anyone else matter?"

Theo chuckled. "I can smell Blaise just dripping off of you. _You_ might not give two rats' arses about other people, but what makes you think that your little girlfriend won't?

Draco sighed. "Theo-"

"No. You listen to me, Draco. Whether you want to believe it or not, there is such a thing as _our_ world. Your mother, the rest of your family, your friends and acquaintances. They all make it up. Not everyone can be as _cordial and charming_ like Blaise. The man's a walking fairytale. Our world is brutal and unkind, not to mention dangerous. The war may be over, but that doesn't mean years upon years of animosity and prejudice are. Do you _really_ want to Granger to be part that?"

"No, of course not, but she can-"

"What? Handle it?"

Draco swallowed thickly and nodded. Theo snorted.

"If you say so. Let's see how well she can take it when she walks into a room with people waiting to spout the word 'mudblood' at her.'"

Now, in Draco's head, he knew that Theo hadn't called Hermione such a terrible name. He had just used an example. But the fact that it had left his lips at all had lit a fire in him that had grown too wild for him to put out. Not to mention that two hours worth of liquor was fueling that fire terribly.

Theo's glass had fallen from his hands as he found himself whirled around in his seat, his back half-over the counter, with Draco's hands on his throat.

"Don't you _ever_ put her name and that word together again!" He snarled at him. Theo could barely breathe. He was vaguely aware of a huge commotion and people trying to get Draco off of him, but it was getting hard to see. Instead he managed to tug his wand out of his pocket and send a nonverbal Stinging Jinx his way.

Draco let him go promptly and swung his blistering hand around. "Damn it!"

Theo sat up, coughing wildly, and stared at his friend with wide eyes. "Get a bloody grip man! I didn't say that she was one!"

 _He knew that._

"For Merlin's sake!" Theo continued. "If you were ready to kill me for that-!"

 _He was._

"-what if it was something worse?"

 _He didn't know._

"You can't take on the whole world, Draco. It's just not practical!"

That was something else he knew. Draco took a moment to look around the room. With the way people were looking at him he could just envision what the Daily Prophet headlines would look like. _Deatheater Attacks Patron at Local Pub. Deatheater Turns on Friend. Things Go Violent at the Leaky Cauldron_ –an up close and personal shot of him in the process of strangling Theo to death.

"Sorry," Draco mumbled. He watched as the mass of people surrounding them parted as he headed their direction so that he could make it to the Floo. Once he stepped inside, a healthy set of Floo Powder in his hand, he was taken away back to the hotel.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Oh, things were so good! And then Draco had to go and get shaken again :(. An emotionally upset and, not to mention, _drunk_ , Draco, is not a very good combination.

I'd like to take a moment to thank **White Bishop** for suggesting WAY early on, for Draco to have a conversation with someone a little less like Blaise. Someone not as "optimistic," to use Theo's words.

-WP


	22. Reassurance

It wasn't as flashy as the suite that Draco had gotten them in Chamonix, but a suite was a suite and Hermione loved it all the same. There was no Jacuzzi, but there was still a massive tub that could fit the two of them and last night that's where they had been –talking and laughing while eating chocolate-covered fruit from and off of each other. The latter had been the best part, naturally.

Hermione stood over the bed with her hands on her hips as she smiled at her dress. Draco had gotten it for her. She didn't know from where or even when, but what she did know was that she had found it hung up in the closet when she woke that morning. It was a simple black dress that stopped at the knee, but it hugged her perfectly in every way. They were supposed to be eating dinner in one of the hotel's restaurants tonight and she could hardly wait. She was just about to head into the shower for a lengthy bath when the fireplace activated in the adjoining room.

Hermione smiled and went out to meet Draco. He had told her that he would be out with Theodore Nott for a bit –someone who, she didn't say out loud, she was none too fond of. Not that she knew him very well (or at all), but he was on the Ministry's watch list for suspicious activity. She didn't believe Draco to be involved with him, but an association could be bad for him.

 _And here I am being a complete and utter hypocrite._ Hermione sighed, but then she gasped.

"Malfoy?"

"Am I selfish?" Draco asked her. He was drunk. She knew it. Not a completely sloshed mess, perhaps, but drunk enough.

"Selfish?" Hermione repeated. "Selfish about what?"

"About you. Us. We are… We're a walking time bomb here for Merlin's sake. We shouldn't even be together. I mean, look at the circumstances of how we started dating. They're ridiculous!"

"Malfoy," Hermione said hesitantly. "You're drunk and you're upset. And you tend to say stupid things when you're either."

"But it's true!" Draco yelled. "I was lonely as hell and you took pity on me. Admit it."

"You and I both know that's not what brought us together that night."

"But it's the reason that we stayed." Draco frowned. "Isn't it?"

It was Hermione's turn to frown. "...I did want to ease your hurt. Truly. But why can't that be a consequence of what I felt for you?"

"Because it's not enough! Me, I'll always be a pathetic, alienated mess because that's how the whole bloody world seems to want me, but you? Your pity isn't going to last forever. Will it be enough, honestly, when, not _if_ , things get worse for us? We're no picnic, Granger, and I can't just watch you leave me. If you did, I... I don't..."

Hermione watched as Draco grew wobbly on his legs. She was by no means strong enough to hold him up, but she damn sure tried. She held him up enough so he didn't fall right to the floor, but they did eventually sink to it –a slow descent until they were sitting on the lush carpet.

"What did Nott say to you, Draco?"

Draco closed his eyes when she said his name. Having had to say their given names at her parents' over dinner, now they sometimes slipped from their lips in intimate moments like these.

"He said a lot. Bottom line being that you'll always be in danger because of me. And he's right." Draco reluctantly admitted. "What happened at your apartment won't be the end of it. What if it's something worse next time? Everyone has their limits, Granger. You may meet yours and find that it's not worth being with me. I… I don't know what I'd do if that's what you ever decided."

"Shh, shh," Hermione cooed as she cradled Draco –his head resting on her shoulder with her fingers running through his hair. "It'll be alright. Trust me. It'll take a lot more than a couple of slurs thrown my way and a tossed apartment to run me off."

Draco raised his head and stared at her, his fear still clearly evident. "How much more?"

Hermione smiled as she cupped his face with her hand. "A horde of centaurs would have to suddenly sprout wings and fly their way to Zeus for a knitting party."

"Do I want to know who Zeus is?"

"If you want to have a lesson on Greek Mythology one day, then sure."

Draco laughed. "I really don't." He sighed then, forcing himself to fully sit up despite the brewing headache. "I love you, Hermione."

Hermione paused. _Did he just say? He didn't say…_ _ **Did he?**_

Draco could see the wheels turning in his girlfriend's head. She was caught off-guard –that much was sure. He himself was surprised at his words because not once had he ever thought about saying them until now. He knew that he cared about her. Deeply. But love? He had never been in love with anyone before, so how could he be sure? But then again, how could he _not_ be sure?

"You're drunk." Hermione said.

Draco tilted his head in a nod. "I am. But that's not to say that I don't mean it. So I've been told, drunk people are the most honest."

 _Drunk people tended to regret what they did the night before too._ Hermione thought miserably to herself. What if, when he was sober, he took it back? What if he wasn't ready and the liquor coursing through his system only made him think-?

Hermione's mental rant halted abruptly when Draco kissed her. It was slow and sweet and tasted of firewhiskey. A well-executed kiss, considering his blood alcohol content. A kiss that she moaned into as he snaked his arms around her and pulled her close. One that chased away any doubt that he'd meant what he said.

"You don't have to say it back." Draco told her once he'd broken the kiss in a tender finish. His words had eased the tremendous weight Hermione hadn't even realized she was carrying. "I wanted to say it, so I did. I can say it again tomorrow, sober, if you like."

Hermione couldn't help the upwards turn of the corners of her mouth. "I...I would like that."

Draco grinned. "Me too,"

* * *

 **Author's note:** The L-word dropped! The L-word dropped!

That is all :)

Oh and lol to the **guest reviewer** who said it's time to move to America. I nearly cried with laughter. Thank you. **White Bishop** , I'm glad that you liked how the Theo situation was played out! Theo gave Draco an ice bucket dose of reality in an attempt to make him see that he and Hermione dating really is a serious matter. That and the fact that Blaise painted quite the fairytale-esque picture that's not exactly true. Draco and Hermione certainly have a lot to deal with and it won't be easy in the slightest. Having them, plus Theo, and Blaise together would be fantastic :)

-WP


	23. Auror Training (Day One)

It was July 1st. Monday, July 1st.

The Ministry was a massive place, filled with people, hustling and bustling all around. And yet when Draco had walked into the atrium he felt as though time had slowed. As though his presence was unheard of and unwanted. Regardless of that he pushed through, his chin held high as he headed towards the lifts. Especially considering how lucky he was his little stint with Theo didn't have any repercussions.

Draco's training letter had said to take the lifts to the eighth floor, Conference Room C. And _of course_ he would end up in the one that had ten million people all going to a dozen floors. Yes, a dozen. The Ministry's elevators were far from normal and didn't just go up and down, but front and back and left and right. It was a good thing he'd decided to come early. Had he not he'd have to bear the scrutiny of being late and eyeballing every trainee before he could find a free seat.

"Here to see your parole Auror, Malfoy?" A voice said from beside him. The blond had to fight hard, _very hard_ , not to immediately say something that would knock the man down a peg or two. Instead he clenched his jaw, clasped his hands tightly behind his back, and kept his head front. He didn't miss others in the lift glancing in his direction at the man's words.

"Not that it's any of your business," Draco said calmly. "But it seems that you, among _many_ ," he added for effect to everyone else in hearing range, "fail to remember that I was exonerated. Thus, no parole Auror."

"Right," the stranger drawled. "Pity,"

Draco closed his eyes and counted in his head. _One, two, three…-_

"I guess I should believe that you're one of the good guys." He continued. "Otherwise why else would Hermione Granger be with you? Unless she's gone mad."

The elevator's doors opened and Draco threw himself out of it. Anything to avoid punching that guy in the face or, even better, sending a curse his way. That would be just what he needed, right? To cause a scene in front of Ministry workers in the middle of the Ministry. Arresting him would be easy and then they could finally put him behind bars, albeit not for the crimes they wanted.

"You alright, Malfoy?" Harry asked once he had walked into Conference Room C.

Draco glanced up at him before taking a seat in the front row. "I'm fine."

Normally he wouldn't want to be this close to Potter on any day, but he knew when to concede and when to fight. It would be better to stick close to Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes in case anyone else tried to test his patience today.

It turned out to be a good choice on his part considering the voice that broke the atmosphere.

"What's _he_ doing here?" Said the same voice from the elevator. Harry looked at him and casually shrugged.

"Well, seeing as this is where Auror training is taking place," Harry addressed, "I'm sure you can put two and two together, Mr…?"

"Travers," he answered. "Philip Travers,"

"Welcome to training, Mr. Travers. Have a seat."

Harry went back to organize some parchment on his desk, leaving Travers standing in the doorway with his mouth open and poised to say more. Instead he let his mouth close and his eyes travel to Draco. Draco, on the other hand, didn't look at him. He did manage to spy him from his periphery, though, and he couldn't help but smirk. That seemed to anger the man even further which would explain the stomping of his feet like a child to a desk towards the back of the room.

The other trainees –eighteen more to enter the room –were just as surprised as Travers to find the blond sitting in the room. Some paused in the doorway before entering. Others took a second glance at the door to make sure that it actually said _Conference Room C._ A few mouths were dropped. A couple stuttered. Others were silent. And the trainees who sat behind the source of their confusion continued to mutter to one another.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief when Harry finally addressed everyone.

"I'd like to congratulate all of you for your fantastic NEWTs scores and for what you got on your Auror entrance exam. They had to be good –better than that, really –for you to be here in Auror training." Harry smiled at everyone, his gaze lingering some on Draco before he continued. "Before we dive into anything, I wanted to talk about one thing. I'm sure you've noticed that Draco Malfoy is in Auror training with all of you."

Draco could've cursed him right then and there.

"I know you may be a bit…surprised to see him here."

There were murmurs of agreement across the room.

 _There'd better be a point to this, Potter._ Draco sneered in his mind.

"I understand your feelings about him." Harry said. "You might even feel uncomfortable, perhaps angry, to be around him. And you have every right to have such feelings. But," he took a deep breath. "I'll have you know that Mr. Malfoy went through the same process as all of you to get here, and he's earned his seat in this room."

Harry was looking at Draco now who had begun staring at him with utter disbelief. He did look away eventually as he let his spectacled eyes wash over everyone.

"So, if his presence here bothers you _that_ much, the door is right over there. This is a professional environment, and it'll be treated like one."

Draco didn't like debts. He didn't like knowing that someone had done something for him and said person now had something hanging over his head. And this…? Well, there was no denying that now Draco owed Potter one. The man had stood up for him. _For him._ He was used to Hermione doing it. He was hers and she was his. They were bound to shoot anyone down who dared to hurt or take advantage of one another. But _Potter?_ What reasoning did he have for talking to everyone like that on his behalf?

Draco didn't know what to say. He merely caught the man's eyes once and gave a subtle nod. His nod was returned, and then silence fell. The blond was expecting someone, _anyone_ to get up at any moment, but to surprise no one did. Potter did a not so subtle job of exhaling a sigh of relief before he clapped his hands eagerly.

"Great. So, one of the things I figured we'd do is get to know each other better since we'll be together for a month. Just mention your name and why you applied for the training program. Not all of you have to go, if you're not comfortable." Harry added. "But if you are, have at it."

Travers was the first one up on his feet and addressing the room. Because Draco was sitting up front no one but Potter could see his exaggerated eye roll.

"The name's Philip Travers," he said with a broad smile. "As for the training program, I figured I could do better, do _more_ than just being a Senior Director for my father's company-"

Draco bit down on his tongue to suppress a groan.

"-and then it hit me! Auror!" Travers exclaimed happily. "I could help people and put my _excellent_ skills to work. I'm sure of it."

Draco smirked some when he saw Potter murmur a "Thank Merlin," when Travers sat down. A few more people got up and introduced themselves (all _a lot_ more tolerable to listen to), and then when they were finished everyone was standing on their feet while their instructor used his wand to make the desks vanish.

"This training is going to be half hands on, half not. Trying to get what you already know and apply it to being an Auror. So, before I start teaching you anything, I want to test you on what you've already got. Let's get two of you up to duel, yeah? Anyone want to volun-?"

"I will." Travers said eagerly. He walked to one side of the room while everyone else watched.

"Alright." Harry replied. "Now, let's get…" he paused and then smiled. "Malfoy,"

Draco cocked a brow. _Can I still become an Auror if I hex him?_

He held in his scowl as he emerged from the crowd. Everyone was deathly quiet and he wondered what was going on through their heads. Did they think he'd do something sneaky and underhanded during this duel? Would he use some Dark spell to take Travers out? As Draco took in his opponent –his wide, smug smile, the way he nodded to some of his peers that were already his friends –the latter option didn't seem so bad.

"You said you wanted to test us on what we know." Travers said to Harry. He eyed Draco once before asking, "How much should we show?"

Harry thought for a moment, seeming to weigh his options before saying, "No broken bones. Try to avoid a concussion. The duel is over after five rounds or until one of you concedes."

Draco kept that in mind as he took his dueler's stance. His face remained impassive while Travers' was just a wide array emotions.

 _Idiot._

"Wands at the ready." Harry announced. "Begin!"

Travers was quick, Draco could give him that. The man let go a spell that nicked him in the shoulder. Draco grunted angrily when he looked and saw his shirt was ripped, and a thin line of blood had appeared.

The grin he sported was all Draco needed to start off round two. He had barely heard Potter say, "Again," before the blond's wand flourished and dropped Travers to his knees. He coughed and, amusingly, two slugs slipped out of his mouth and onto the floor. Everyone in the room groaned in disgust, a few laughed, and Draco couldn't help but take a look at Potter who was giving him a look that just said, _"Really?"_

Draco shrugged with a smirk before releasing Travers from the hex. He glared up at him before getting to his feet.

"Figures you'd resort to something juvenile." Travers spat at him.

Draco chuckled. "Perhaps I should grow up then."

Travers scoffed. "A little late for that. Flipendo!"

"Protego!"

Travers dove out of the way as his own spell came back at him and hit the wall. He snarled terribly, "Incarcerous!"

"Diffindo!" Draco countered, effectively slashing the ropes that flew out of Travers' wand before they latched onto him.

"Locomotor Mortis!"

Draco blocked it.

"Confundus!"

Another block.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Block.

"What's the matter Malfoy?" Travers taunted with a smile. "Afraid to fight back?"

Travers laughed and _that_ was what Draco had been waiting for. A cocky cock-up.

"Immobulus!"

Travers froze on the spot, mid-laugh. A non-verbal "Expelliarmus" wrenched his wand from him and Draco knew that it had to have hurt his fingers having been pried from a stiff hand. And then, with both wands in hand, he raised them.

"Stupefy,"

Travers' head rolled back as he continued to stand still. Draco smiled triumphantly as his fellow trainees all began to clap. He stuffed his wand aside and gave Potter Travers'.

"Not going to unfreeze him?" Harry asked with a crooked grin.

Draco shrugged. "Thought I might leave that task to you."

* * *

 **Author's note:** Harry's my favorite. Go Harry!

Also, you all are FANTASTIC! 300+ reviews. Thank you! :)

-WP


	24. Nonsensical

Hermione could safely say that her life had fallen into a routine. A good one. After an anonymous tip had led Harry to the person who had destroyed her apartment, things had certainly begun looking up. For the past three weeks her days had followed as such: she'd wake up with Draco's arms wrapped around her, his breath tickling her as he nuzzled his nose in her neck while he slept. Sometimes she'd wake up on her own, but most times it was due to Draco's gentle strokes of his fingers along her skin or the kisses he planted along her shoulders.

Once she was up Hermione would make breakfast with her chef hands at the beck and call of a certain blond man. Said man found it necessary to call for any and everything to eat because he simply loved to watch her cook. That and he loved everything she made.

After that she'd go to work while he went to Auror training. She'd have lunch with either Ron or Ginny, sometimes Harry if training didn't run over into their eating time. Draco would generally head home to have lunch with his mother or Blaise. Hermione's work day would end roughly the same time as Draco's training, and they'd both either head back to her apartment or some restaurant for dinner.

Dinner was always where everything varied. Hermione's day was generally the same, but her Draco always had something to grumble about –particularly about one trainee named Travers who he "wouldn't mind binding to a pole and practicing his training on." But people aside, he was doing well in training, so Harry said. And the black-haired man had to admit that he was well on his way to becoming a pretty good Auror. Something of which Hermione had been sworn to secrecy never to tell Draco.

After dinner dessert would _always_ be each other, culminating in sensual sounds and hands exploring their bodies as though they weren't already familiar with them. They'd fall asleep wrapped up in each other, an "I love you," whispered in her ear.

Draco would say it every night. He said it every morning. Those three little words would fall from his lips randomly when it was morning or night and Hermione would always know when he was getting ready to say it. First off he'd be staring at her. He always seemed to be lost in thought when he was, maybe also in disbelief that this was his life. And then he'd smile. A true, wide smile before he told her. She'd yet to say it back, however, much to Ginny's chagrin and complete badgering. It wasn't for a lack of feeling, because at this point there was no doubt in her mind that she didn't know what she'd do without him. But those words… Those words were perhaps the most precious in any language that someone could ever say. She didn't want to waste the moment. She wanted to be sure. She wanted it to be perfect.

"Ow!"

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Hermione apologized. She had been walking and thinking at the same time and apparently had been failing at the first task. Perhaps doing so in Diagon Alley was a poor decision. "I really am sorry. I wasn't looking where I was –Parvati?"

"Hi Hermione," Parvati said as she rubbed her forehead. "And no worries. This isn't the first time you've run into me before." She chuckled. "Although last time you had a book in your hand."

"Right,"

An awkward silence slipped in. As for Hermione she did _not_ want to be around her. This was the same woman who had written that atrocious article about her and Draco. Yes, Parvati had still been a friend, but what friend would really cross that line? It appeared that if she was a gossip columnist it would trump friendship every time.

Even now.

"So, Hermione," Parvati said slowly. "Now that I've got you here, do you mind if I asked you some questions about-?"

"No." Hermione cut her off immediately. "My relationship with Malfoy is completely off limits as it _should have been_ in the first place."

"Malfoy? You still call him 'Malfoy' after all this time? That's so interesting!"

"Parvati!"

"I'm sorry, but this is big news." The woman continued excitedly. "You've been dating him for months and you're still on a last name basis! Would you mind telling me why?"

Hermione crossed her arms angrily. "Yes, I mind. How on earth could you think that I'd give you some sort of 'exclusive?' What you wrote in that article was completely Malfoy-centered and it was _horrible._ "

Parvati shrugged. "It was the truth."

"An _exaggerated_ truth,"

"But the truth nonetheless," she finished smugly. "There were dozens of reporters there, Hermione. They were all going to write the same thing."

Hermione frowned. That they did. Some painted her as crazy. Others painted Draco as manipulative. Few were just trying to figure out how this sin had manifested. But, of course, she knew why the Daily Prophet article had hurt the most.

"Then you should've let _them_ write it." Hermione told her. "You were supposed to be my friend."

Parvati had the decency to look guilty then. With a strand of her hair playing between her fingers she sighed. "Part of my job is separating what's business and what's personal. That's what I did. I can't be sorry for doing my job, but I _am_ sorry for any trouble that it might have caused you."

"Well, there was certainly trouble." The brunette grimly agreed. She couldn't help but think about her previously vandalized apartment. "But whether your article or not, Malfoy and I… We're controversial at best. We'll always have trouble."

"Off the record?" Parvati said hesitantly. "I know that you must've gotten asked this before, but why are you with him then? All of this trouble and for what? It doesn't make sense."

"Love doesn't have to make sense."

The words had flown from Hermione's mouth so seamlessly. It made her smile on the inside as well as out and Parvati, reluctantly, nodded.

"It seems so." She frowned. "See you soon, I suppose."

Hermione bid her farewells to Parvati and watched the woman walk off. With a sigh, Hermione was off as well and finally made it to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes where George was busy showing how a certain product worked to a customer and Ron had just finished ringing someone up.

"There you are." Ron said with a smile. "I was beginning to think you'd gotten stuck at the Ministry or something."

"No, no." Hermione replied as she approached the register. "I just had a run-in with Parvati on the way here."

"Parvati, huh? How did that one go?"

"It went… It was interesting, to say the least. I'm already over it, honestly. I just want to go and get something to eat and put it out of my head-"

"Ron," a feminine voice Hermione hadn't heard in ages interrupted them. "Are we still on for dinner tomorrow? –Oh, Hermione! Sorry, I didn't see you there!"

"Lavender," the brunette uttered. "Wow, it's…it's been a while."

"I'll say!" The woman exclaimed with a bright smile. "It's good to see you, though. So, Ron," she turned back to him. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes," Ron nodded. "Tomorrow,"

"Great!" Lavender squealed, said her goodbyes to him with a peck on the cheek and a wave to Hermione before heading out of the shoppe. Hermione stared with her mouth slightly open as she walked away.

"Lavender?" She said in disbelief. "You're seeing _Lavender?_ "

Ron smiled. "Don't give me that look, Hermione."

The brunette placed her hands on her hips. "What look?"

" _That_ look," Ron gestured with a point of his finger. "Your whole posture, actually."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron-"

"Don't. Let's not forget who _you're_ cuddling up to these days."

She bit her lip. "Yes, yes, that's true." She continued to chew on it as her eyes caught sight of Lavender through the window as she crossed the crowded street and entered another shoppe. "Oh, but she's so… _Lavender._ "

Ron laughed. "And he's so _Malfoy._ How about we just agree that we're both dating someone that makes each other gag. Deal?"

It was Hermione's turn to laugh. "Alright, deal. But seriously though, Ron. If she calls you Won-Won' in front of me I'll vomit."

"And if Malfoy tries and-or actually kisses you in front me _I'll_ vomit. Just so we're clear."

Hermione nodded. "Fair enough,"

* * *

 **Author's note:** Well, that Parvati-Hermione conversation was long overdue I'd say! Also, I had to put Lavender in there lol. Who's more nonsensical than her?

And now! A bit of both good and bad news. Bad first: this story shall be updated to just once a week instead of twice (I'll keep it on Sundays). It'll give me a bit of time to write more :).

But as for the **good** **news** , in its place on Wednesdays I shall be putting out a new story inspired by Giminia Wow's Cassie Zabini (If you're not reading it already, you really should! Just a suggestion :)!). It'll be called Happily Divorced with our favorite pair. It's genre…well, a bit of everything I think. Mostly fluff, humor, some romance… I'm really looking forward to it and I hope that you'll follow me there!

-WP


	25. Advanced Magic

"It's been a hard month, but at least it's almost over." Harry smiled to everyone. "So, let's recap on a few things. Next week Tuesday will be your testing date. There'll be a review of everything we've covered and practiced on Monday. You'll find out if you passed the day after your test via owl. If you did, you'll have to head to the Auror Head, Quintin Warren, and inform him of your choice in Auror Division. Divisional training will begin on August 5th.

"So, that leaves the next two days pretty open for us. I figured that we'd have a bit of fun and learn something interesting. The Patronus Charm."

Draco had been fine with everything Potter had said right up until that last bit. A Patronus Charm? Did he _want_ him to be made a fool of in front of everyone? Those things were notoriously difficult for the average person. But for him? Someone who's past haunted him on a daily basis? Someone who had to fight to remind himself that he did, indeed, deserve to be happy? Potter had said that this was supposed to be fun, but little did the man know what an enormous burden he had just placed on him.

With a sigh, Draco rose from his seat when Potter dismissed the class. It was as he was leaving that he could hear Travers –that little prick –whispering none too quietly to a few trainees he had befriended.

"Malfoy's going to sink faster than a rock in a lake with this one."

Draco scowled. He opened his mouth to say something, but he was silenced by two things. First was Potter's stare. Second, and most surprisingly, was a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find one of the other trainees, Lydia, smiling softly at him.

"Ignore him." She said. "He's an arse, and you…well, you've proved yourself here."

Draco stared blankly. This woman, in their entire month of training together, hadn't said one word to him. No one had, really. It wasn't out of the pure act of ignoring him, but training was much too involved to chit-chat at all. To think that _that_ was the first thing she had said to him? He couldn't help but look like a stag caught in lights.

"See you tomorrow, Malfoy." Lydia grinned, then she turned on her heel to meet a man who was waiting in the doorway for her. She slipped her hand in his and they headed on their way.

Draco would've continued to stand dumbfounded had he not become aware of Travers' laughter. His snarl was back, but he refused to let the man get the satisfaction he was looking for. Instead he gave a brief nod to Potter before leaving and headed straight for Hermione's office. When he got there he only entered when she said it was okay and was pleasantly surprised to find a full array of food set up on his girlfriend's desk.

Draco smiled. "What's this?"

"Well," Hermione said as walked in front of her desk. "Unfortunately I have to be back here for a meeting at seven, but I didn't want to rush through dinner. So, I figured that we could eat here. Is that okay?"

"That's perfectly okay." Draco replied. He closed the door behind him and walked over. From over her shoulder he could see everything that she had laid out. Pasta, bread, a bottle of wine, and off to the side cherries sans stems and pits, and whipped cream. "You ordered from Donatello's."

"I did. I loved it the last time we went."

"Obviously," he remarked with a chuckle. He leaned over and picked up a cherry, dipping it in a bit of the whipped cream. "This was a good idea, really." He added as he looked at her. "There's nothing wrong mixing a little business with pleasure."

 _Hmm, it still works,_ the blond thought as he watched Hermione's skin flush. The brunette in question had tried to control it, honestly, but her body was quite out of her hands when she was with him. In fact it was in his –even now as he let his left hand lay on her waist and his thumb smoothed over her stomach.

"We're supposed to be _eating_ , Draco." Hermione said softly. Draco swiped his tongue over his upper lip.

"And we will, _Hermione_ ," he rebutted. "Let me eat the cherry first –woops."

Hermione's eyes followed the cherry's fall. It landed neatly on the inside of her shirt –nestled right in her bra between her breasts –whipped cream smeared on her chest. She looked up at him and there it was. The dark lust that often filled his features when he was with her.

Hermione smirked. "You lost your cherry."

"Apparently," Draco said flippantly as he flicked open the buttons of her blouse. "But I still intend on eating it."

"I see," she groaned happily as his lips made it to her chest, kissing and licking away the whipped cream. "That's not a healthy dinner, you know."

"Never said it was dinner." He paused once he finally made it to the cherry, an expert curve of his tongue picking it up into his mouth. "It's dessert."

Hermione laughed. "One cherry isn't dessert."

Draco smiled, chewing and swallowing his cherry as he unbuttoned the rest of her shirt and dipped his finger in the whipped cream. "Oh, I know." He wiped his finger over her stomach. "But _you_ are."

"Am I?" Hermione said naively. She shook her head at him as she slipped her own finger in the white aphrodisiac and spread some across his neck. "Lock the door and silence the room, Draco."

* * *

Hermione's meeting got pushed back an hour which was all fine and dandy for her. She and Draco spent the better part of their time having "dessert" and only just began having dinner. They sat on the floor in front of her desk on a conjured blanket perfectly content.

"I hear that Auror Juno is going to be running the Dark Arts divisional training next month." Hermione said casually. "She's great. I think you'll learn a lot from her."

"Granger," Draco said with an amused grin. "I haven't even passed my regular training yet."

"Which you will,"she replied happily. "You're at the top of your class."

"I suppose," a humble smile on his face. "Still doesn't make these next two days any easier, though."

"What's happening in the next two days?"

"Potter thought it would be fun if we spent the time learning the Patronus Charm."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Oh, that _is_ fun! A wonderful idea, really. Dementors aren't nearly as common to find anymore with the Ministry's roundup and all, but it's still a good charm to know. Not to mention that they're really useful in sending messages."

"Useful, yes, but only if you can get past that hard as hell barrier in creating one." Draco frowned. "I'm _not_ self-loathing, mind you," he added quickly before she could jump in. "But it still stands that I don't have as many happy memories as I would like. If I'm being honest, I don't think I'll ever be able to produce a Patronus."

"Well," Hermione began slowly, "Not to sound conceited or anything, but I would hope that you would have some happy moments with _me._ "

"And I do." Draco said immediately. He reached out for her and Hermione fell into him, relishing in the feel of his arms wrapped around her. "The happiest I've been is with you, but…" He sighed. "I'm also scared when I think of you."

Hermione's brows furrowed. "Scared? But why would you be-?"

"Have you forgotten your apartment?"

"Of course not." She said softly, twiddling her thumbs some. "The person responsible was caught, you know."

"I know, but that doesn't mean something like that can't happen again."

"Perhaps," Hermione shrugged. "But let's look at it this way: you'll look out for me, won't you?"

Draco smiled some. "You know I will."

"And, no matter how premature you think it is for me to say, you're going to be an Auror. As far as I'm concerned, I'm protected twice over."

Draco laughed as he shook his head, making sure to plant a kiss on her forehead. "You are _far_ too optimistic."

"And you should take a lesson out of my book." She beamed. "Now, on your feet."

"What? What for?"

"We're going to work on your Patronus."

"Do we have to?" He pouted. "Your meeting isn't starting for another half an hour and there's still whipped cream left…"

"Unless you pin me down to the floor we are _going_ to work on this."

Draco's eyes danced. "Well, if you insist-"

Hermione giggled and dodged a kiss from him as she rose to her feet. Clad in just her bra and knickers, Draco's gaze followed.

"Up you go, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco clicked his tongue. "So bossy."

He got up from the floor as Hermione reached across her desk for her wand. When she turned she had to stifle her gasp at seeing her fully naked boyfriend in front of her. He was smirking, the little devil. The little Slytherin, actually.

"You were saying, Miss Granger?"

Hermione cleared her throat. "Yes. Um, well… Oh, Malfoy, do put on your underwear, will you?"

Draco chuckled. "Killjoy,"

She rolled her eyes as he found and pulled his underwear on. Once he was dressed (sort of) with his wand in hand, Hermione smiled.

"Okay. Now, we've already figured out a source of happiness for you, so I want you to focus on that when you're casting the charm."

"But, I already said that-"

"I know, but trust me on this next part, yes?" Hermione urged. "Instead of thinking of all the horrible things that could happen to me –to us, why don't you try thinking of all of the good things instead? All of the things that you _want_ to happen. All of the things that _should_ be happening if people weren't such meddlers."

"I suppose I could do that." Draco said with a tilt of his head. "But don't the memories have to be real?"

"Not necessarily. Harry's produced some of his strongest Patronuses on the thought of his parents and, well, he was much too young to have any real memories of them at all. Can we try it?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah, sure, I guess I can give it a shot."

"Good. So, get your thoughts together, and when you're ready just say _Expecto Patronum._ "

Draco took a deep breath.

 _Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts._

The first image that came to mind was a recent one. It was after their escapades with the whipped cream. They had just laid there, on the floor, their heads resting against her desk, and they were silent. Their lips were, at least. Hermione had her hand resting on his, her fingers intertwined with his own.

Draco smiled at that, trying his best not to be saddened at the fact that people didn't want him to be happy. To have this. To have _her_. With a deep breath he pushed the negativity away and focused on his life with her. On how he wanted it to be.

"Expecto Patronum!" Draco said. A wisp of white light no bigger than someone's breath on a cold day left his wand. It was over faster than he could blink.

"Fantastic!"

Draco turned to her with his brows raised. "Are you kidding? It was just a small bit of light."

"Some people can't even do that." Hermione countered, a huge grin on her face. "Don't underestimate it. With a bit more practice the light could get bigger and brighter. Maybe even take on a corporeal form!"

"I stand by what I said," he chuckled. "Far too optimistic."

Hermione shrugged. "It's been working for me all this time. Why change now?"

"Oh, you're never allowed to change." Draco told her as he set his wand down. "What about you? Can you perform a corporeal Patronus?"

"I can. It was an otter."

"Was?"

"Patronuses can change." Hermione informed him. "They're based on your personality and people can change over time, whether naturally or by some life-altering event." She fingered her wand some and pursed her lips. "I haven't had to cast one since the war, so I'm not entirely sure if it's the same or not."

"Give it a go then." Draco encouraged.

"Alright," she raised her wand and readied herself. "Expecto Patronum!"

Draco watched in amazement as a massively bright white light erupted from her wand. The light swirled and transformed into, not an otter, but a bird, and both he and Hermione stared at it in awe as it flew around the room before disappearing.

"Well," Hermione beamed. "It seems like I feel a lot freer these days."

"Good," Draco nodded. "I hope this means that my Patronus is a bird too."

* * *

 **Author's note:** I really do love cherries…before this chapter, not because of it haha. But yey Patronus Charms!

Thanks for reading guys! :D

-WP


	26. Invitations

"Do you both want to work in the same Division?" Draco asked. He was sitting with Lydia and her husband, Uriel –the man she had been holding hands with at class two days ago.

"Absolutely not," Uriel replied. "I'd be too busy thinking someone's trying to kill her to do my job."

Lydia laughed. "He's wants to do the Magical Protection Division. I, on the other hand, would much rather Espionage. It was either that or Dark Arts."

Draco had tried to contain himself, he really did, but he couldn't help the look of surprise that had spread across his features. Lydia was…well, she just looked like such the innocent person. Fair-skinned, dirty-blonde hair that was often pulled back in a bun or a ponytail, and large librarian glasses. He didn't know if she wore makeup usually, but from what he could tell now she didn't, and her clothes were casual and loose. She reminded him of Hermione with her studious nature and he couldn't for the life of him imagine this woman in either of the Auror Department's two most dangerous Divisions.

Lydia seemed to notice his shock and exchanged a knowing look with her husband. "Don't worry, I'm more menacing than I look."

"Believe her." Uriel added and chuckled when she smacked him in the arm.

"Although not true for all, members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight do have the capacity to be quite intimidating under the right circumstances. Wouldn't you agree?"

Once again, Draco was unable to control his expression. "The Sacred Twenty-Eight? Which family?"

"Rosier," Lydia explained. "Evan Rosier was my uncle –the bloody idiot." She added in a grumble. "My mother managed to keep our family out of the mess while my uncle went back to 'fight for the cause.' And what happened to him? Dead. Serves him right."

"Huh," Draco mused. "I would've never pegged you for a Rosier." He smiled then and nodded. "Definitely stick with Espionage. No one will ever think you're dangerous."

"Which Division are you looking into?" Uriel asked.

Draco hesitated. "…Dark Arts."

Uriel nodded, then smiled. "The Division will have a good addition this year then."

Draco found himself smiling the same before Potter finally addressed the class. The blond could feel his insides twisting. No, Patronuses weren't going to be on the exam, but still, he wanted to be as proficient in them as though they were. Yesterday had been a disaster –in his mind at least. He was still only able to create wisps of light, granted it was a bit bigger and brighter than the one had created with Hermione. And Potter had been just as enthusiastic as she when the blob of light had emerged from his wand. At least he could have some satisfaction in the fact that Travers could barely even do that. The man's death stare at Draco was laughable.

As everyone got on their feet –the desks and chairs cleared away so there was ample room –Draco glanced over at Lydia and Uriel. They had gotten their Patronuses down towards the end of class yesterday, and each try afterwards produced bigger and longer-lasting ones. Lydia's was a panther while Uriel's was a horse. Such large, strong creatures for two softies as Draco depicted them in his mind. But then again, they were in the Auror Training Program and one of them a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. How soft could they be really?

Draco had never asked, but he figured that his new friends' happy memories were of each other. He would see them from the corner of his eye, letting their Patronuses roam free, and then giving one another a look that said, _"All because of you."_

It frustrated him. He _always_ thought of Hermione when trying to perform his, but it didn't get much better. He knew that it was his fears that prevented him and he cursed under his breath. Why couldn't he set them aside? Even if just for a moment? He just wanted to get this right. Not even just for him, but for her too. Another thing to make her proud of him.

And that's when the memory of the evening in Hermione's office flashed across his vision. He recalled how excited she'd been at his barely-there Patronus. Her smile. Her joy. At _his_ expense. He wanted her to stay that way. He wanted her to be happy for the rest of her life. And it made _him_ happy that it was he, of all people, to give her that contentment.

Draco took a deep breath, "Expecto Patronum!"

White light.

A _bright_ white light.

And a… _a shape?_

A creature did, indeed, take form out of that shimmery light, and Draco had to blink a few times to make sure he was seeing it right. It couldn't have been. It just _couldn't_.

"Well, would you look at that?" Harry smiled broadly as he strode close to him. "The ferret's Patronus is a ferret."

Draco scowled. "Shut up, Potter."

"That's _Auror_ Potter to you." He corrected, although his tone held more mirth than any show of authority. "Regardless, good work."

Potter walked away then and Draco brought his attention down to his Patronus. The ferret. Shiny and shimmery as it gazed up at him.

"For Merlin's sake… You couldn't have been a dragon or something?"

The ferret merely cocked its head to one side before nuzzling its head against Draco's leg and then disappearing.

* * *

"She went to Beauxbatons, you say?"

Draco nodded. His mother had been extremely interested to learn of Lydia Rosier –now Harper. It wasn't that she was a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. It wasn't the fact that Evan's sister had managed to go largely under the radar and kept her family as such. No. It was the sad fact that Narcissa hadn't known any of it and let an intelligent, Auror-material pureblood worthy of her son slip through her fingers.

His mother was so predictable.

"We must invite her and… _her husband_ ," she added with undisguised contempt, "for dinner one evening."

Draco shrugged. "If you wish."

"I do. But not before dining with Miss Granger –Draco, are you alright?"

No. No, he was certainly _not_ alright. As evidence of that he had begun choking on his food. It took at least three coughs, his fist pounding on his chest, and a _long_ sip of his wine before he could speak.

"You _what?_ "

Narcissa smiled. "Rules of courtship, darling. Don't think that I've forgotten. I've allowed you to pursue your relationship as you've seen fit, and, although you have appeased me with ceasing that _dreadful_ casual dating-"

Yes, he'd told his mother that he and Hermione had labeled their relationship. She'd been thrilled.

"-It's time that you've indulged your mother."

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he dabbed at his mouth with his napkin and set it aside. "Under normal rules of courtship, Hermione would've met you months ago."

Narcissa laughed softly. " _Nothing_ about your relationship is normal. Plenty of rules have been broken already, and so the rest are allowed to be amended. I would like to meet the woman who has captured my son's time and attention. And so," she said contentedly, "Miss Granger will dine with us here at her earliest convenience."

" _Here?_ " Draco repeated. His mouth set up in a frown as he leaned forward slightly. "Do you really think it wise for her to come _here?_ "

Narcissa fidgeted a tad in her seat. "We can have dinner out on the lanai. It's nowhere near where that… _incident_ happened."

"It was more than an 'incident,' Mother. It might not just be that room to pose problems for her. These halls, this Manor… It's just one huge memory."

Narcissa frowned like her son. "For her or for you?"

It was Draco's turn to fidget. "Every day of my life is a memory." He paused and then smiled to himself. "Or at least it used to be. Let's just say from past experience that I know what coming here may be like for her. I'd rather avoid it."

Narcissa picked up her wine glass and slowly nodded. "I understand. However, seeing as I am otherwise _location-challenged_ , dinner at the Manor is our only option. Speak to Miss Granger. If she is truly averse to coming, then so be it."

"I'll ask."

"Good. Oh, you never did tell me how that Patronus Charm worked for you yesterday."

Draco put his head in his hands and groaned.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Perhaps cliché, but I couldn't resist making Draco's Patronus a ferret. I really couldn't haha.

Also, I just checked and saw that I have over 400 follows for this. I can't express how happy I am. Thanks guys!

-WP :)


	27. Nice Guys Finish First

Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry, Ron, and Ginny laughed hysterically.

" _A ferret?_ " Ron laughed. "Merlin, Harry, how could you wait a full day to tell us this?"

"Or me, for that matter?" Ginny asked as she pinched Harry in the arm. He rubbed at it, still smiling, his eyes scanning her hand for the engagement ring he'd put on her almost a full month ago. "I'm your fiancée, you dolt."

"I know, I know, but we had to wait until Hermione was here, didn't we?"

Another eye roll and Hermione shook her head. "Some friends you are."

More laughter.

"Come on, you have to admit that it's pretty funny." Ginny smiled. "This is the first sign of proof that karma is real."

Hermione huffed as she picked up a roll from the middle of the table to butter it. "I'll have you know that a ferret suits Malfoy fine. They're territorial creatures, you know."

Ron raised his brow. "And?"

" _And_ as I said it suits him! He has a very protective nature."

Ron snorted. "Over what? His ego?"

"Perhaps," Hermione replied stubbornly. "But," she shrugged and took a small bite out of her roll. "Mostly over me."

The dinner table fell silent. Hermione didn't expect a full-blown ruckus over it, but she just wanted to make it known. She had to admit that when Draco had told her that he'd managed to produce a Patronus and what it was that she had been very much like her friends. She had smiled broadly, rolled over in hysterics as his face turned bright red. But then she grew serious and told him that she was proud. He'd been so scared, so utterly _terrified_ of something happening to her. How ironic, then, that his Patronus would be territorial?

Ginny smiled at her and placed a hand over hers. "Despite how funny it is, at least it's a good sign. Means we won't have to murder him anytime soon."

Hermione scoffed, a curl coming to her lips. " _As if_ you three could take Malfoy out."

"Hey," Harry puffed up his chest. "I _am_ an Auror, you know. I could take him down."

Hermione looked at Ginny, she stared back, and the women were in an utter uproar while Ron was trying to convince Harry that yes, he was "a very scary Auror."

* * *

Back at the Manor Draco was pacing in front of the fireplace. He had told Blaise to Floo call him at nine-thirty. It was nine-thirty- _five_. The blond was about to pass for the umpteenth time in front of the fire when it finally turned green. He turned his eyes down at it and narrowed them.

"You're late."

Even with a green face, his features less defined than if he was there in person, his happy-go-lucky smile and overall amused expression was still clearly evident.

"Are you docking points, Professor?"

Draco was grinding his teeth. "If I say yes, will it help with your punctuality next time?"

He laughed. "Probably not, but a sweet treat might."

"You and your sweet tooth." Draco shook his head. "You're going to rot your teeth, you know that?"

"Is that you talking or the girlfriend?"

He paused. _Was it?_

"What did you want to talk about?" Blaise asked, seeming overjoyed at making Draco think.

"I don't know when exactly, and I still need to talk my mother into it, but I need you to come to the Manor for dinner sometime in the near future. With that said, keep your calendar open."

Blaise scratched his head. "Um sure, no problem, I guess. What's the dinner for?"

"Well, I…" Draco raked a hand through his hair and sighed. "Granger's going to meet my mother."

Blaise's face disappeared from the flames. Draco was confused, but soon the flames roared and he had to fall on his back and crawl to avoid getting singed as his best friend walked out of the fireplace.

"Blaise!" Draco shouted. "A little warning next time, will you? You could've burned the hell out of me!"

"Are you serious?" Blaise said as he stared down at him. "You're _seriously_ letting them meet?"

Draco scowled. "You _could_ say sorry for nearly flaying me alive, you know."

Blaise waved him off. "I'll apologize later. Now, you're _serious?_ "

Draco cursed heavily as he got up from the floor. "Yes, I'm serious. I don't know why you're so surprised. We've been together for months."

"And even then the only people from your neck of the woods you've had Granger introduced to are me and my wife."

Draco sighed, rubbing his temple deeply with his thumb. "It couldn't be avoided, alright? My mother's been ignoring my relationship with her, but she's seen fit to invoke those dreadful rules of courtship."

"Ah yes," Blaise noted whimsically. "Pureblood rules to turn horny men into gentlemen and fake sexual innocence among women."

Draco smirked. "There _is_ more to it than that, you know."

"True, but that's the main purpose regardless. What does Granger think of dinner with mum?"

"Haven't told her about it yet. I just figured that if she knew you'd be there beforehand she'd be more inclined to agree."

"Do you really think she'd say no?" Blaise prodded him. Draco took a deep breath and shrugged.

"Not necessarily about the dinner, but being _here_ to have it."

Realization dawned on Blaise in that moment. His lips turned to a thin line as he slowly nodded. "Does she…talk about the war at all with you?"

"No. The war is the last thing on either of our minds."

Blaise perked up some. "Is it really?"

Draco squinted his eyes at his friend's sudden change in demeanor, but then he smiled. "Yes, really."

"And to think all it took was love, attention, and regular sex to get you to stop sulking."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Merlin, you're crude."

"And that's how you like me." Blaise laughed. "Don't worry about the dinner mate, whenever you have it. I'll be there and I'm sure it'll be fine. Although, I do suggest giving Granger a little lesson on etiquette."

"Etiquette? She doesn't eat with her feet, you know."

"Let me rephrase: _pureblood_ etiquette. The moment you let on to your mother that you want to invite other guests, the dinner becomes a formal affair. It wouldn't hurt to let her in what she'll be walking into."

Draco sighed. He hadn't thought of that. He could just imagine the aftermath of the dinner when he was alone with his mother. Her instant disapproval of Hermione's posture was just ringing in his ears and the dinner hadn't even happened yet.

"Yes, yes, I suppose you're right."

"I always am." Blaise replied cheekily as he clapped a hand on Draco's shoulder. "No worries, mate. It'll all go swimmingly."

"Thanks." Draco said gratefully. "I'll let you know in advance when it is. Oh, and bring Liliana with you."

"You offend me, Draco. You know I never go anywhere without her."

* * *

When Draco walked out of Hermione's fireplace she was on the sofa and reading. A regular occurrence, and he smiled at the sight. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, her legs were curled up under her, and she was gnawing on her fingernails. Such a messy and attractive sight all at the same time.

"Just so you know, all of my friends know what your Patronus is now." Hermione said without looking up from her book. She grinned into it when she heard him groan.

"Potter and his big mouth,"

Hermione laughed and closed her book. "There's nothing wrong with a ferret as a Patronus, now come here."

His girlfriend had her arms wide open and Draco nearly jumped into them. Instead he casually went over and sat down beside her. Her arms instantly wrapped around him and she hugged him tightly. He swore he was like a teddy bear to this woman –not that he minded.

"How was dinner with your mum?"

"Good. We, um…" _Might as well get this over with._ "We talked about you for a bit, actually."

Hermione looked down at him with a quizzical look. "Did you really? What about?"

"Well," Draco started off hesitantly. "She wants to have dinner with you…at the Manor sometime soon."

The mere mention of the Manor made her flinch. Draco felt it. He let his hand travel up her arm and massage her shoulder. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Really," Hermione said after a moment's pause. "Does it…? Does it have to be at the Manor?"

Draco twisted himself in her arms and caught the look on her face. It was just as he imagined. A little lost. A little afraid. A little of…everything.

"Her house arrest isn't over until next year." Draco answered her. "It's the Manor or nothing and I'm pretty sure she's going to harass me until you walk through its fireplace. But," he made sure to add, "You don't have to go if you don't want to."

Hermione took her bottom lip between her teeth. "Do you really think she'll wait a year to have dinner with me?"

"Not without, and I repeat, _harassing me_. But I don't want you to do it to keep my ears from bleeding. I want you to be comfortable there."

Comfortable. In the Manor where she had been tortured? He wanted her to be _comfortable?_ But then again, he didn't know, did he? Sure, she had told him that the night of Bellatrix's torture of her had haunted her, but he didn't exactly know how, did he? He didn't know of the nightmares. He didn't know of her panic attacks when she spotted certain knives. He didn't know of the shivers she'd get when her fingers passed over where that hideous slur used to be. With the help of her friends as well as a professional it all stopped over time, thank Merlin. Some of it came back when Hogwarts began. The new man that Draco had become had chased them all away again. Maybe his presence at the dinner would keep her feelings at bay?

"Let me think about it, okay?" Hermione said.

Draco eagerly nodded and kissed her on the cheek. "That's fine. And, if it makes you feel any better, I asked Blaise to be there. He'll bring Liliana and I'm sure it'll make the dinner feel less awkward. At least I hope so."

Hermione couldn't help the small "O" that her mouth fell into. "You invited them for me?"

"Of course I did." Draco said with a causal shrug of his shoulders. "I know that Manor, Granger. I've lived there. I still do, however infrequent I'm there these days. And I'll never forget what happened there. I wasn't about to invite you to go that place without making sure you'd feel alright. Granger? Hermione?"

Hermione was deaf. She was numb, too. Every word that Draco had just said had gone through her ears, muddled around in her brain, and settled quite abruptly in her chest. Thoughtful wasn't the right word for him. Considerate wasn't the right word for him either. _Was_ there an appropriate word?

 _Oh, the hell with words._

Hermione grabbed his face and planted her lips firmly on his. When she pulled back, his eyes were wide, but a goofy grin was spread across his face.

"Stand,"

Draco tilted his head some. "What?"

"Stand," she repeated, her eyes filled with absolute delight. "Go! Go!"

Draco was half pushed off of the sofa and Hermione followed shortly after. He was still confused, albeit highly amused when she took his hand and led him through the house and to her bedroom. They were hardly in the room before she was kissing him again and Draco was losing all of his senses. Hermione was the true definition of multitasking as she gently bit and pulled on his bottom lip, expertly guiding them in the direction of her bed, and undoing his shirt from its tucked-in state.

Draco's legs hit the bed and he nearly fell back. Instead Hermione broke their kiss off, and she placed a hand on his chest to _push_ him onto the bed. He landed with a bounce and he watched in shameless lust as she slipped her shirt over her head and shimmied out of her denims.

"Those have to go." Hermione said, pointing to Draco's pants. He smiled, but he didn't move an inch.

"Only if the rest of _that_ goes." He replied, motioning to the bra and underwear she still wore.

They went quickly, and so did his pants considering that she didn't wait for him to do it himself. Once she slipped them and his underwear off she climbed onto him, and Draco closed his eyes as she slowly settled herself down. He slid his hands up her thighs, but he was surprised when she pulled them away and pinned them to the bed.

"Not this time," she teased. "This time," she smiled as she rolled her hips into him, relishing the sound of her name on his lips. "I get to pleasure _you_."

Hermione gave a sultry chuckle as she watched him –his hands bunching up her bedsheets in an attempt to keep them off of her, his facial expressions as she moved more quickly above him, his raspy voice, grunts and groans…

None of that beat out the flush of his skin though, and she pressed her lips to his ear. "Looks like I'm not the only one who turns red at that word."

Draco couldn't help it. He let go of the sheets and promptly turned them over. He held her body tightly, his lips, teeth, and tongue attacking her neck while his ears were _pleasurably_ assaulted by her cries with each thrust he gave.

It was official. If this was the result, he would have to think of Hermione's well-being more often.

* * *

 **Author's note:** It pays to do good so it seems! Hermione definitely appreciated his car. And, so it seems, Draco wasn't the only one to come out of the war a little out of sorts.

Thanks for reading guys!

-WP :)


	28. Self-esteem Breaker

"I passed." Draco said breathlessly as he held the Ministry official letter in his hands. "I… _I passed._ "

Narcissa, a woman who wasn't much for strong displays of affection, suddenly hugged her son in a back-breaking gesture. "Oh, Draco, I'm so proud of you!"

"Thank you," he choked out. "Um, can I breathe now?"

"Oh! Yes, yes, of course."

Narcissa let him go, her joy written neatly on her face. It was strange for Draco, honestly. He'd seen his mother happy before, but this was bordering on the excessive. At least it was better than having her brood.

"So, is that all then?" She asked. "Is there more that you have to do?"

"There's still Divisional training." Draco said as he looked back at his letter. "I have to go to the Auror Head and tell him which one I want. It starts next week Monday."

"Well, then go!" Narcissa shooed. "Go to the Ministry now then and get it over with. Tomorrow we can have lunch to celebrate."

Draco smiled. "Are you sure you don't want to throw a party? That _is_ your signature move, after all."

"Not at all. We'll have one after you receive your Auror badge, naturally."

Draco rolled his eyes. _Naturally._ He bid his mother goodbye and left to head to the Ministry. It would be closing soon, although he did know that out of all the Departments in the Ministry, the Auror Department was notoriously known for having the most random and longest work hours.

His letter had given him directions to the Auror Head's office, and he went inside after knocking and being given the okay.

"Auror Warren?"

The Auror looked up, and immediately Draco could feel the tension. This man… This man did _not_ like him. There was a strange pool in the pit of the blond's stomach that perhaps he had a legitimate reason for said hatred. It didn't help Draco any that the man looked like someone he had seen before.

Draco kept in his sigh and instead held his head up high as he closed the door behind him. "I just wanted to inform you of my Auror Division."

Auror Warren seemed like he was trying to restrain himself. "Trying" being the key word. His face was stern, jaw clenched, and his eyes narrow. Draco watched the man as he leaned back in his chair casually.

"Ah, yes, I was expecting you." He drawled lazily. "Albeit not so soon. Eager, are we?"

Draco cupped his hands behind his back in an effort to restrain his _own_ self. "I wouldn't say _eager._ More like just on top of what I have to do. So, my Division?"

Auror Warren huffed. "Right." He leaned forward and fished around for some paperwork. When he found what he was looking for, he grabbed a Self-Inking Quill and poised it over the parchment. "Your Division?"

"Dark Arts," he replied curtly and then waited to see the expression on his future Auror Head's face. It was priceless, really. A vein in his neck throbbed. His face grew Weasley-hair red. And his grip on his quill would surely break it in half.

Draco honestly couldn't help himself any longer and in the most patronizing manner he could possibly muster, he said with a smile, "Is there someone wrong, Auror Warren?"

"Officially?" He asked as he wrote in the proper places and signed off where he was supposed to. He passed it, albeit roughly, to Draco so that he could sign too. "No. But off the record? I have a problem with Deatheaters in my Department."

Draco kept his scowl in check once he'd finished signing and stood to his full height. Clearing his throat and casually shrugging, he said, "I suppose I should apologize that my presence bothers you." And then his scowl appeared, full and heavy as he added, "But I won't."

"You're a Malfoy." Auror Warren spat at him. "I don't expect you to do anything worth a damn. Although," he said with a smug smirk. "I still think you should say thank you to your girlfriend for this."

Draco faltered. "Excuse me?"

"What, you don't know?" He asked tauntingly. "I was ready to throw your Auror application out until Miss Granger saw it rotting away on my desk. So, let's get one thing straight, shall we? It doesn't matter that you made it through Auror Training. With Potter as your instructor, of course you would." He added in a scoff. "But the _only_ reason you made it into training at all was because of _her_. Without her you'd be just another Deatheater and living out the rest of your days as a black spot on the Wizarding word.

'So, it's like I said." Auror Warren continued with a huge grin. "You should go thank your girlfriend."

* * *

Hermione was cleaning up all of her paperwork from her desk. She would head home, shower, change into something more attractive than work robes, and then head to dinner with Draco. There was a huge possibility that he would already be at her apartment, and the thought of it she found interesting. She wouldn't say that they were "living together," but with how often he was at her apartment it was a somewhat accurate description. If anyone had told her that _this_ would be her life after the war, she wouldn't have believed them in the slightest.

"Hermione,"

She looked up and smiled when she saw Draco in her doorway. She frowned shortly after when she realized that he looked completely distressed.

"Draco, what's wrong?"

"You helped me get into the training program?"

"Who told you that?"

"Is that a yes?"

Hermione sighed. She gestured for him to move from the doorway and she used her wand to close, lock, and silence the room. "Your application was going to be thrown out. Quintin –I mean Auror Warren –he is…a right _arse_ and he wasn't going to give you a fair shot simply because of your past and his personal issues-"

"Personal issues?" Draco echoed. Hermione nodded and nervously played with her sleeves.

"His cousin. She was… She'd been killed during the war." Hermione paused and looked up at him as recognition seemed to be slowly dawning on him. "In your Manor."

The air felt thick around Draco as he emitted a soft, "Oh." _That's_ why he had looked so familiar. It was because he'd seen a member of his family. A _dead_ member of his family.

"Draco,"

He looked up, nearly jumping out of his skin when he saw that Hermione was standing directly in front of him. He didn't even hear when she had moved from her desk.

"I know what you're thinking."

Draco snorted. "Do you?"

"Yes," Hermione insisted as she placed a hand on his cheek to make him look at her. "You got into the training program _on your own._ "

" _No,_ I didn't." Draco argued as he shrugged her off of him. "You _know_ that I didn't. You said it yourself. My application was going to be thrown out if you hadn't interceded!"

"What was I supposed to do? Do nothing and let Quintin mistreat you all because of his own problems?"

"Yes!"

Hermione blinked rapidly in surprise. "Yes?"

"…No. I…I don't know." Draco reluctantly admitted. He heaved a heavy sigh and shook his head. "I need to get some air."

"Draco," Hermione called as she watched him undo the charms on her door. "Draco!" She called again, but he was out the door faster than she could've imagined. She just stood there, in disbelief at the turn of the conversation. In fact she was so out of it that she didn't even realize that Harry had walked into her office.

He'd been on his way to give her a few files on a case that she was helping out the Auror Department with when he saw Draco rush past him. That had been red flag number one. The second was hearing Hermione call out desperately for him, and then to find her looking like she'd just failed a class.

"You and Malfoy have a fight?"

Hermione turned her blank gaze to Harry and hesitated. "I… Yes? I don't know what to make of it really."

"What happened?" Harry asked as he closed her office door behind him.

"Malfoy talked to Quintin, I suppose. He found out that I stopped his application from getting trashed. I don't get it." Hermione frowned bitterly. "I thought that he would be happy, but instead he flipped out! I didn't want to hurt him or make him feel… I don't know, inadequate? I just wanted to help. Was I wrong, Harry? Should I have… _not_ helped?"

"For you to _not_ help isn't in your nature. It's what you do, Hermione. What you did wasn't a bad thing."

"Oh, well, tell Malfoy that." Hermione scoffed. She felt water build in her eyes, but she fought to the death to make sure they didn't slip. Instead she sat on the corner of her desk and stared at any and everything that wasn't Harry's concerned eyes. "I don't even know where he is so we can talk some more." She added softly. "He just…stormed off."

Harry didn't know what to say. He just stood there, taking in the distraught appearance of his friend and felt his heart ache. _Damn Malfoy_. Now he was going to have to do something that he _really_ didn't want to do.

* * *

 **Author's note:** It can't all be sunshine and unicorns unfortunately… Auror Warren needs to get fired.

Thanks for reading everyone!

-WP


	29. Slip of the Tongue

Draco was thinking too much. Did he overreact? Was he right? Should he have stayed? Would they have had a bigger fight if he had?

A migraine was brewing and he was certain that his glass of firewhiskey wasn't helping. As he let his gaze linger on the swirling liquid in his hand, he had a passing thought that maybe he was an alcoholic. No, no he wasn't. He didn't drink that much, honestly. But it was without question that he needed to find another outlet for when he was upset.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Draco looked up from his drink and promptly scoffed. "You were looking for me?"

"Unfortunately," Harry replied as he sat down next to him at the Leaky Cauldron's bar. "According to Hermione you just took off after you fought. She was upset."

"Oh," he frowned. He stared at his glass guiltily as he asked, "Did she tell you what happened?"

"She did. And you know, she only did it because she cares about you. Merlin knows why."

"Thanks, Potter." Draco sneered.

"She didn't do anything wrong." Harry continued. "You do know that, don't you?"

Draco slowly nodded. "I do. And I appreciate it, yes, but unlike what she wants me to believe, I didn't get into the Auror Training Program on my own."

"But your scores-"

" _Should have_ ," the blond finished. "But they didn't. They were just the reason that the Auror Head _couldn't_ turn me away. Admit it, Potter." Draco egged him on. "If it wasn't for Granger, I wouldn't have gotten into the program at all."

That was the _last_ thing that Harry wanted to admit to. But, sadly, he was right. Harry knew Quintin. He knew him well. His biases would have let that application gather dust, dirt, and grime at the bottom of a trash bin.

Draco took Harry's silence as admission and finished his firewhiskey. "I'm not mad at Hermione, just…the situation, I suppose. I just wish that I had gotten in on my own merit. Not because of hers or because she bested an arse like Warren."

"I guess I can understand that. Although, there's nothing wrong with getting a bit of help. I should know that better than anyone." Harry added with a chuckle. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but…go to her. She's a wreck."

"Is she home?"

"Yes,"

"Alright,"

Neither man moved though. Draco didn't know why Potter hadn't, but he knew why _he_ hadn't, and figured he'd get this over with.

"Potter, I've always meant to ask… That first day in training? Why did you choose me to duel Travers?"

"Oh, that?" Harry laughed. "He was an arse. Cocky, _no_ sort of self-discipline whatsoever. He actually reminded me of you back at Hogwarts."

Draco flinched. "Merlin. That was the worst insult you could've ever given me."

Harry shrugged. "Regardless, he needed to be knocked down a peg or two. I figured that you could do it, and you did."

Draco fought the tug on his lips upwards. Instead he narrowed his eyes some as he said, "You're not going to hug me, are you?"

"Not even if Hermione was watching, Malfoy."

"Good. And thanks…" Draco paused before adding, "Git."

"Prick." Harry replied without missing a beat. He left then and Draco smirked as he turned down a refill on his drink.

* * *

Draco had been wise to purchase a Sobering Up Potion at the Leaky Cauldron before heading to Hermione's apartment. After his embarrassing display following his incident with Theo, he had never wanted to be drunk around Hermione ever again. So now he was tumbling gracefully out of her fireplace –not entirely surprised to find her sitting on the sofa and looking like she'd been run over by a threstral-drawn carriage. He felt guilty all over again.

"Hermione, I'm sor-"

"No, wait." Hermione said as she rose to her feet. "Let me just say one thing."

Draco snapped his mouth shut and nodded.

"Okay. First things first, I am _not_ going to apologize for what I did with your application. You don't know Quintin. He's just… _ridiculous._ He's absolutely prejudiced and should be ashamed of himself. And trust me, I understand where you were coming from back in my office. _Technically speaking_ , I interfered. I did. But if it wasn't for Quintin you would have _definitely_ gotten in on your own. This was just…an obstacle that you had to get across and you didn't even _know_ you had this stumbling block in front of you! I couldn't just sit back and let this happen.

'And for the record I'll _always_ stand up for you if or when something stupid like this happens again. I'll do it because I love you and because I just _despise_ people treating you like-"

"What did you say?" Draco interrupted. Hermione furrowed her brows.

"Well, I said quite a few things. You'll have to be more specific."

"Hermione," he said almost breathlessly as he got closer. "You just said that you love me."

"Oh," Hermione replied, her nervous habit of wringing her hands together kicking in. "I...well, I guess I did."

"You sound surprised." Draco chuckled. Hermione nervously smiled.

"I am a bit, to be honest. I mean, I had wanted to say it for some time now, but no time ever seemed to be right, and I over-analyzed it terribly, not wanting it to sound forced or rushed but rather naturally –and of course it would slip out when I was explaining myself to you and-"

"You're rambling." Draco said, a smile wide on his face as he put his hands on her waist.

"Yes, I know."

"And you love me."

Hermione sighed, a furious blush taking over her skin. "Yes, I do."

"You're rambling like a mad woman and you love me."

"You seem to like those two things about me."

"I love those two things about you." Draco said happily, brushing strands of hair away from her face. "I love everything about you."

Hermione smiled, leaning into his touch as his fingers gazed her cheek. "I really do love you, Draco."

Draco let out a ecstatic sigh –one that perhaps he didn't even know he was holding. "Yeah? How much?"

"Hey, I never asked you how much when you said it to me."

"You can ask me the same after."

Hermione laughed. She placed her hands on the sides of his face and kissed his lips once, taking a moment to look into his eyes –grey, shining, and vibrant. They were wonderful to look into.

"I'm pretty sure that I'll love you for the rest of my life."

Draco's heart could have very well stopped at that moment. In fact, he was certain that it had.

"Do you promise?" He asked almost in a whisper. Hermione nodded, kissing him again for good measure.

"Yes," she replied, her "S" leaving its impression on his lips. "Do you? Do you promise?"

"Yes," Draco answered her, capturing her lips in yet another kiss.

A deeper one.

A longer one.

One filled with the very promise that they'd both made.

* * *

 **Author's note:** She said it! She said it! She finally said it! And bromance moments for Harry and Draco. I'd say this chapter was a win-win, yes?

Also, hugs, claps, and trophies for you for pushing this story past 400 reviews! Thanks!

-WP


	30. Trauma

"Guys, I need your help with something." Hermione said as she played with her food rather than ate it. She was having lunch with both Harry and Ron today and figured that she'd might as well get their opinions on this while they were all together.

"Sure, what is-? Oi! Will you _stop_ picking at my plate?" Ron scolded Harry. The man shrugged but still plucked at a bit of sausage.

Hermione laughed and joined in the fun of eating off Ron's plate which made him fume even further.

"Go on, keep at it. I won't help if you do."

"Oh fine," Hermione smiled. "It's about Malfoy."

"Figures," Harry grinned.

" _Anyway…_ It looks like his mother wants to have dinner with me."

Both men stopped eating.

Ron gulped. " _She does?_ "

"Seems that way." Hermione shrugged. "I wouldn't be so opposed to it if the dinner wasn't going to be held at Malfoy Manor."

"You can't go there." Harry said immediately. He frowned and reached for her hand. "You've been doing so well. For you to go _there_ of all places-"

"I know. If it weren't for Narcissa's house arrest we'd be having the dinner elsewhere."

"I can't believe that Malfoy would want you to go there after he knows _firsthand_ what happened to you in that place." Ron grimaced.

"He's not forcing me to go." Hermione clarified. "I'm free to take as much time as I'd like to decide this. And if I do say yes, Malfoy's assured me that Blaise and his wife will be there. You know, having people that I'm comfortable with to make things less awkward."

Harry chuckled and then repeated, "Comfortable with. Never thought I'd be hearing you say anything like that about any Slytherin at all."

"Tell me about it. I just… It's hard for me to know whether I'll ever be able to face the Manor again –with or without people to distract me. Whether today, tomorrow, next year-"

"Next year?" Ron interrupted. "You _really_ see you and Malfoy going on through next _year?_ "

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Will you ever get that tone of surprise out of your voice whenever I discuss specifics of my relationship?"

Ron snorted. "Not bloody likely. But you weren't finished. –Go on."

"Right, well. I guess the opinion that I really need from you guys is how long should I wait until I accept the invitation? If I don't think I'll ever _truly_ be comfortable, then maybe I should just jump right into it?"

"As opposed to taking it little by little?" Harry asked. "Are you sure that's wise? Healer Higgs didn't have you do that when you were seeing her and I'm pretty sure she wouldn't want you to do that now."

"Well how exactly am I supposed to do it little by little? Stare at the Manor from afar off and see what reactions I get?"

Harry looked at Ron who gave him a gentle shrug of his shoulders.

"Doesn't sound like too bad of an idea." Ron offered.

Hermione stared at him wide-eyed. "You're serious?"

"Why not? If you can handle looking at it then that'll give you some idea of what you'll feel."

"Oh sure. I'll just coax the Manor's address from Malfoy and trespass so I can get a look at the view."

"Or," Harry countered. "You could look at some photographs instead."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

"The Auror Department has a whole case file on the Malfoys, remember?" He explained. "There are some photographs in there too. I could give you a couple to look over. Would you be open to that?"

 _Well, it sure beats walking into the Manor blind._

"…Sure. Yes. I think that'll work out. If you can get them to me today I can go over them at home after work. Malfoy's training is going to run late today seeing it's the first day. I won't be disturbed."

* * *

So Draco had heard from Hermione who had heard from Harry, only four people (himself included) had signed on for the Dark Arts Auror Division. He had always liked the idea of small classes what with individualized attention and not being distracted by a lot of other people. He was, to say the least, excited. Not just because he was one step closer to becoming an Auror, but because he was endeavoring in something that he knew he just couldn't fail. For once in his life being a Malfoy was _good_ for something. Dinner talk wasn't all lollipops and roses. Not with Lucius Malfoy as his father. He had learned much too much from him growing up –none of it good. And the war? Draco had learned more about magic than he ever thought possible and he'd been studying magic at Hogwarts for seven years for Merlin's sake.

Yes, this was the place for him. That was his thought process as Draco walked into, not a conference room, but rather an office. Auror Juno's methods for training her new Division Aurors were very hands on. There was going to be very little time spent in a classroom so the information grapevine went, and he wondered how soon he would be out in the field. Merlin bless him if it was as soon as tomorrow. Draco was simply itching to get going.

As he entered Auror Juno's office he found her sitting at her desk. She was speaking amicably (or as best she could, if he was being honest) to someone else who was sitting in front of her. She looked up when she saw Draco enter and smiled. The man in front of her desk didn't have to turn around for Draco to know who it was, and he tried his best not to scowl or give any negative reaction at all.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," Auror Juno greeted. "Lovely to see you. Early just like your counterpart. That's good. Have a seat."

Draco nodded and slowly made his way over to the unoccupied seat next to Travers. He grumbled mercilessly, but Auror Juno ignored him and began speaking in a professional tone.

"Welcome to the Dark Arts Auror Divisional Training gentlemen. There are four of you, total, in this training, but you'll only meet with your fellow trainees once a week, Fridays. Those days will be spent going over what you've done with your partners –what went wrong, what went well, things like that. You-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt." Travers spoke. "But when you say _partners…?_ "

"That confused you?" Auror Juno questioned with the hint of a snort. "Use the definition of the word that you know, Mr. Travers, and that is what I mean. I paired both you and Mr. Malfoy together for this training and, should nothing disastrous strikes, you'll remain as such when you become full-fledged employees.

'And before you ask," she continued before the annoying git could interrupt again. "I've heard of the…animosity between the both of you. However, regardless of whether I'm doing the training or not I _always_ choose the partners, and I'm good at it. I pair people who aren't necessarily compatible, but rather those who each have something that the other person lacks."

"What do we lack?" Draco couldn't help but ask. Auror Juno nodded at him contentedly.

"You, Mr. Malfoy, are calm, calculating, and wonderfully precise and resourceful. Such skills are an asset, but are also a fault. You haven't a single impulsive bone in your body."

"Impulsivity is an _asset_?"

"Surprising, isn't it?" Auror Juno chuckled. "Perhaps impulsive isn't the right word. Let's go with instinctive, yes? While working with dangerous artifacts can require painstaking patience, sometimes an impetuous personality is necessary when immediate action is needed." She turned to Travers then and added, "That's where you come in, Mr. Travers. You dive in head first to any and every task presented to you in an effort to showcase your skills and to prove yourself. That's good."

Travers sat smugly. "Why thank-"

"However continuing to live your life as such and doing your _job_ as such will likely kill you and kill you quickly."

It was Draco's turn to let a smug smile cross his features. He did little to hide it and relished in Travers' obvious embarrassment.

"I believe the two of you will balance each other out as partners nicely." Auror Juno finished. "You'll spend the first week in the Auror Department's Containment Center. You'll be trained on containment procedures and become very friendly with the containment staff and the artifacts that we currently have. The next week you'll be paired with a specific artifact and the Aurors whose case files they're part of. The rest of your training will be _that_ case. You'll do your utmost to help solve it which will either take up part of your training, all of it, or even run into your official hire. You'll work with whichever Departments necessary –other Auror Divisions, Wizard Law, Magical Research-"

Draco's ears perked up. "Magical Research?"

Auror Juno tried to smother her cheeky grin, but she was failing miserably. "Yes. Our Division works with that Department quite frequently seeing as much of what we see requires knowledge that we ourselves might not have. You'll most likely spend a lot of your time there –but, try not to abuse it, will you?"

 _Try_ _ **not**_ _to take advantage of the fact that my girlfriend works in the very Department I'll work with "frequently?"_

"I'll do my best." Draco replied. Auror Juno merely shook her head, clearly not believing him, but plowed on with their Division training anyway.

Today was their introduction, and aside from this speech, they'd begin with the Containment Center like she said. Working with Travers might be utter hell, but the prospect of seeing Hermione more often was quickly outweighing the negatives.

* * *

Harry had done what he'd said he would and had given Hermione the case files on the Malfoys. He told her that they would have to be given back tomorrow morning which meant that she would have to go through them tonight. The prospect of doing it was…daunting, to say the least. Regardless, after she had gotten home from work she mustered up some of that proclaimed Gryffindor courage and sat on her bed with the case files laid out in front of her.

The case files were highly organized –mostly because of her doing. No, she didn't put together _these_ set of files personally (her post-traumatic stress wouldn't have allowed her to do so anyway), but she had put together others like it. There was one folder that was subdivided. It was on the Malfoy family –members who were alive and had been implicated in Voldemort's deeds. Hermione opened that one first and she took a deep breath when Lucius Malfoy's face showed first.

There was no reaction when she saw it, and that was good. She wasn't particularly surprised at her non-reaction either. Yes, he had been there that night, but it wasn't his face that haunted her because he hadn't been in her line of sight. The next photograph was of Draco. She frowned at it. It was a younger photo of him –one of him scowling that made him look mean and…well, evil. That was _not_ the man she was currently in love with and she couldn't very well imagine him as this hateful boy that was staring up at her. She tutted and moved to the next family member and Hermione froze.

Narcissa Malfoy had a face like her sister. Quite frankly Andromeda looked like them both, but the warmth that radiated from her made her different from her House of Black relatives. Narcissa was lacking the unruly mane of black hair and the crazed look in her eyes, but still the woman embodied the features of Bellatrix and Hermione felt her heart race. She immediately closed her eyes and did what Healer Higgs told her to do in times of distress: count.

And so she counted. She took long, deep breaths so as not to hyperventilate and counted in her mind backwards from ten. When she was finished she didn't reopen her eyes. Instead she focused on another activity that her mental Healer had told her to do when she encountered knives and had panic attacks.

 _Narcissa doesn't have large, black, curly hair. It's straight and blonde._

 _Narcissa doesn't have yellowing, uncared for teeth. They're straight and white and perfect._

 _Narcissa doesn't have a shrill laugh._

 _Narcissa's eyes are not beady and black._

 _Narcissa was_ _ **not**_ _the one who hurt me._

Focusing on what made a knife different from the one Bellatrix had carved her with had helped rid Hermione of her anxiety. When she opened her eyes she was able to breathe a little better when looking at Narcissa's photograph and she closed the case file.

The next folder was solely on Malfoy Manor. It's history, a detailed record of the owners of the estate. Photographs. Looking at the Manor itself made Hermione think of when she, Harry, and Ron had been brought there. They had already known the danger that they were in, but the way that it had looked…so ominous. It had made things seem ten times worse. It was making things worse _now_ , if she were to be honest. She felt like she was being transported back to that night. Like she was being taken to the Manor to be turned over to Deatheaters and Voldemort.

Hermione closed her eyes.

She counted from ten.

She reopened her eyes and looked around her room to remind herself that she was _not_ at Malfoy Manor and that she _wasn't_ being taken hostage with her friends. With a frown she took one last look at the photograph –still with a fast beating heart, but less crazy. The next few photographs Hermione flipped through them slowly. They were of the grounds. They were of different rooms in the Manor. And of those rooms –those _damn rooms_ was one of the parlor where she'd been tortured.

The file of photographs were pushed away from her so hard that it fell off of the bed and they all went flying. But it didn't matter that she couldn't see the photograph that had now triggered her panic attack. The damage had been done. She could hear Bellatrix's laugh. She could see her hair obscuring her vision and giving her spare glimpses of the parlor room. She could feel – _Merlin_ could she _**feel**_ the murderous witch on top of her, her hot breath breathing on her, and her knife digging into her. And it hurt. It hurt so badly. She felt tears prickling her eyes as the pain cut deeply into her upper arm and she began to hyperventilate.

" _How did you get into my vault?!"_

" _I don't know!"_

" _You lie!"_

" _I'm not! I swear I'm not!"_

" _You're going to die for what you've done, mudblood."_

" _No, don't!_ _ **Please**_ _, don't!"_

" _You're going to_ _ **die**_ _, mudblood."_

" _Please...no,_ _ **please!**_ _"_

" _You're going to die, Granger."_

" _Don't kill me. Please don't-"_

" _Granger,-"_

" _Don't… I swear I don't know-"_

" _Granger?"_

" _I don't-"_

"Hermione? _Hermione?_ Hermione, look at me!"

Hermione's breathing was still erratic and she felt like she hadn't been breathing for...how many minutes. But at least now she could tell that she was in her bedroom, and there was Draco, sitting on his knees on the bed. _Draco_ , who in this moment looked so much like the rest of his family that she started to cry.

Draco recognized a panic attack when he saw one having had a few of his own. He placed his hands on the side of her face and coaxed her down. "Look at me, Hermione. Breathe. Do you hear me? _Breathe._ Long breaths in, long breaths out. Do it."

It took her a moment, but soon she was mimicking him. She was taking long breaths in when he did it, and long breaths out when he did it. Soon her breathing was normal again, but oddly enough the pain was still there. It wasn't until Draco pried her right hand off of her left arm that she finally figured out where the pain was coming from.

It was her own doing. She had been digging her nails into her arm and it looked awful. It made her cry even more, but Draco didn't say a word. He merely took out his wand and summoned a safety kit that he knew she had in the house. He used a wound cleansing balm on her arm first –on the five little, yet deep places her nails had been. Then he took some bandages and wrapped her arm.

"How painful is it? Scale of one to ten."

"...Seven,"

"Drink some of this Pain Potion."

"I don't want it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Draco conceded and put it away. He sighed and went around the room to manually pick up the photographs that were scattered everywhere. He had thought about using his wand to do it, but he didn't want Hermione to accidentally see them and cause another panic attack. Judging by how _these_ photos were a mess as opposed to what else was on the bed, he could only assume that they were what had started it.

Once they were together and put back in its folder, he moved it and the one on the bed onto her night table.

"Hermione," Draco said gently as he cupped the side of her face. "What are you doing with these?"

"I didn't…" She gulped and gave a small shudder. "I wanted to go to the dinner, but I didn't know how I'd...react being there. I thought looking at your family's case file would help." She glanced down at her arm and suppressed a chuckle. "Obviously I'm not ready."

"I told you that you didn't have to go. Why did you-?"

"I know that I didn't _have_ to, but I wanted to."

Draco frowned. He gently pulled her forward so that he could hug her, but he was careful not to disturb her arm. "When you said that night haunted you, I didn't know it was this bad."

"People are scarred in a lot of ways, Draco." Hermione replied, her face buried in his neck. "Sometimes you just can't see it."

They didn't talk for a while. They just sat there on Hermione's bed and holding onto each other. Draco was content with the silence, but there was one thing was bothering him.

"I didn't know that the Ministry had a case file on me."

"On your family." She corrected. "It was made shortly after the war."

"Will it ever go away? Like...when my mother's house arrest is over?"

"I… I doubt it. It's part of the war records. Most likely it'll never go away."

"Oh. That's… That's disappointing."

* * *

 **Author's note:** I just love this chapter. Draco's not the only one who suffers from the past, and I really wanted to show that with Hermione. And Travers is Draco's work partner. Oh how fun lol

Thanks for reading!

-WP

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 **Myrddin Emrys:** Thanks!


	31. Auror Perks

"Can we break down the next curse component _now?_ " Travers whined.

Draco was _so_ close to shoving his wand down the man's throat, but he refrained. Instead he kept up his concentration as a tea kettle hovered in the air. He and Travers had been working together for the past two weeks, going on three. Like Auror Juno said, they had been down in the Auror Department's Containment Center for the first week getting accustomed to the rules and regulations with how they handled dangerous items. The start of this week had been exciting, considering that someone had bought and used the _charming_ little tea kettle that was currently being examined. The person in question was now in a coma which meant that she couldn't be asked all the pertinent questions like, for starters, where she'd gotten it from.

Containment Center procedures were simple: First, and probably the most obvious, was to contain the object. That had required both Draco and Travers to head out with members of the Auror Department's Magical Protection (MP) Division and the Department's Investigative Division. Draco had been happy to see Uriel there and, regrettably, Potter too. Nothing could really be done with the kettle until Draco and Travers had assessed the danger level. Since someone had been put in a coma because of it danger levels were clearly in the red.

Uriel had done his part in containing it and he, along with his mentor, went back with Draco and Travers to the Containment Center. The second step of containment procedures had started that night and was _still_ going on: break down the object's curse components. This part could be long, hard, easy, short, _anything_ depending on what they were working with. Since nearly a full week had gone by and they were still on the second procedure the kettle was obviously a hideous pain in the neck.

"Travers, steady a light here for me."

"Oh sure," Travers mocked as he brandished his wand. "I wait around for a day and a half for you to finish your tinkering and I get to be your flashlight."

"Just give me a damn light." Draco cursed. Was it too much to ask for a _little_ cooperation?

They were each taking turns in breaking down what made the kettle so dangerous. Well, that was an understatement. Unfortunately, curse breaking took painstaking work and it was _not_ Travers' strong suit. The last component, a rather complex Intravenous Curse meant to make whatever harm inside travel through the body more easily, Travers had fiddled around with for approximately three hours while dictating (which Draco wrote down) his findings. It took Draco another six hours to determine what kind of Intravenous Curse it was and another ten to finally break it. It had been determined since then that it would be Draco to do the curse breaking while Travers' opinion was gathered _only when necessary._ Although, he had been exaggerating when complaining about being a light holder. His time was much more valuable than that. Travers also took notes.

"What is _that?_ " Travers asked once he had given Draco the light he'd asked for. Draco was wondering the same thing. The kettle was your standard cursed object. They almost always had some type of Intravenous Curse because whatever was inside had to pass through the host somehow. There was always some sort of Anchoring Charm to keep the danger in place and sometimes a time component involved like that of a ticking bomb. But what Draco was looking at now –tiny engravings etched on the inside of the kettle that he couldn't make heads or tails of –was new.

"It looks like...Ancient Runes."

"Great," Travers scoffed. "A subject that _no one_ in their right mind paid attention in at Hogwarts."

Draco smirked. "Oh no, there's one witch who did. And yes, she was absolutely daft for loving it." He lowered his wand and let the kettle settle on its table top. "I'll go get Hermione. She'll crack whatever this is within minutes."

Travers nodded as a response and let his eyes linger on the kettle as Draco headed towards the door. The blond paused before actually leaving and added, "Oh, and as much as it would mean the _world_ to me for it to happen, try not to kill yourself, yeah?"

Two seconds longer in the room and Draco would've witnessed the rude hand gesture his Auror partner had given him. Not that he cared. He was on his way to enjoy the main perk of his new job and it thrilled him.

Draco gave a rhythmic knock on Hermione's door when he finally reached it, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and rocked gently on his heels until he heard the happy-to-be-at-work voice of his girlfriend telling her visitor to enter.

"What book have you stuffed your face into that's got you into such a chipper mood?"

Hermione did, in fact, just put back a book she had been reading onto her personal bookshelf before heading over to her parchment-covered desk. Draco knew her all too well.

"I was helping out with information on a flesh-eating curse. Nasty thing, really –in theory _and_ in person. Now," she said happily as stood by her desk. "What has my boyfriend come to see me about?

"Auror business, of course." Draco said with a smile as he closed (and locked and silenced) the door.

Hermione had missed the latter two actions because she was too enamored with the way that he had said "Auror business." It was just…so _official_ , and she couldn't have been prouder.

"What do you need help with?" Hermione asked eagerly. Draco was in love with just how excited she was to help.

"If you're not too busy," he began as he drew closer. "Come down to the Containment Center? Travers and I are working on the latest cursed object that was found. There's an anomaly that we can't account for and we figured that you could help."

Hermione smiled. "You mean _you_ figured that I could help."

"Naturally,"

She laughed to herself and then nodded as she began to organize the pieces of parchment on her desk. "Sure, I can come down. Did Auror Juno give you copies of the other cursed object files? They all had at least one thing off about them. This can't be very different, so it just must be a matter of deciphering –Draco! What are you…?" Hermione closed her eyes and planted the palms of her hands on her desk as a subtle moan escaped her lips. "What… What are you…? This isn't 'Auror business.'"

Draco smirked. Hermione's ability to get lost within her own little world whenever a particular knowledge base was needed was always a lovely distraction. She had been blissfully unaware of his purposeful steps around her desk so that he could stand behind her. She'd only noticed something was amiss when the zipper of her pencil skirt had slid down and the garment itself fell onto the floor. By then, of course, it had been too late. In a swift motion one arm was around her waist, holding her in place and pressed against his front, while his free hand had pushed her underwear down and in between her thighs his busy hand went.

He chuckled at how prim and proper she could still be at a time like this.

"I'm sorry," he said quite _un-_ apologetically. "You know what they say. There's a fine line between business and pleasure."

Hermione was barely registering anything that he was saying. It was a muffled sound in comparison to every gasp, pant, or groan she gave with every thrust of his fingers.

"That's not…" she bit her lips, "…how it goes. It's a fine line between – _bleeding hell…_ "

Draco laughed as the hand around her waist made its way up to her breast. "I beg your pardon? A fine line between 'bleeding hell?' I don't think I know that one."

"Pleasure and pain!" Hermione choked out. "A fine line between pleasure and pain."

She was leaning even further over her desk now and she felt Draco's face nuzzling her neck –even a touch of his tongue alongside it as he whispered, "Oh yes. My mistake…"

All of a sudden both of his hands were gone. Hermione had been surprised at the sudden loss of stimulation and turned around, her eyes wide when she realized that Draco was undoing his own pants. Now that she had a clear head, she had better ask what the professional side of her wondering.

"Is Travers waiting?"

"Yes."

Hermione bit the inside of her jaw as she stared at her half-naked boyfriend. Her _advancing_ half-naked boyfriend who had managed to back her onto the edge of her desk, place his hands on her thighs, and nestle himself between her ready to go.

She swallowed. "Five minutes,"

"Fifteen,"

" _Seven_ ,"

" _Ten,_ "

Hermione paused. And then without warning she pulled him by the collar of his shirt and kissed him.

Ten minutes it was.

* * *

Ten minutes turned out to be twelve. By the time Hermione and Draco made it down to the Containment Center it had been a full fifteen. The look on Travers' face when they had entered was _not_ a friendly one. Although, considering how awful he'd been to Draco, Hermione didn't feel _too_ bad about it. At least not on a personal level. On a professional level, however, her guilt had manifested ten-fold.

Travers took one look at Hermione's blushing face, Draco's smug one, and then huffed. "Took you long enough there, Malfoy."

"Ease yourself, Travers." Draco said gently. Then he smiled as he closed the door behind him. "We were coming."

Hermione had to refrain from whipping herself around quickly and shooting accusing eyes at him. Did he _mean_ for what he said to sound like that? Judging by his facial expression, the answer was yes. The brunette rolled her eyes and let it slip before taking out her wand.

"What was it that you found?"

With his wand in hand, Travers levitated the kettle. Draco shined a light on the inside of it and Hermione drew closer. Neither men in the room had to explain what she'd find.

"Can you decipher it?" Travers asked. Draco almost slapped him silly for such a stupid question.

"It'll take me a bit –perhaps an hour or so, but yes. Although," Hermione frowned. "I can already give you an idea of what it is."

"That's my girl." Draco grinned. "How bad is it?"

"Pretty bad." She said as she reached forward to touch the kettle. Both Draco and Travers shouted at her to stop, but she continued anyway. "Relax. It won't do anything to me."

Draco's heart was in his hand as he watched his girlfriend handle the kettle as though it _hadn't_ put someone in a coma earlier in the week. Then his brow furrowed when she was, in fact, fine.

"The Ancient Runes engravings have elements of a Targeting Spell." Hermione explained. "Whoever's behind this was after _one_ particular person. It's ingenious, really. No one would suspect it at all of being dangerous because whoever manufactured it would've treated it like any ordinary kettle. It would only cause harm to the intended individual."

"If that's the case our jobs just got a whole lot easier." Travers said. "Targeted people means the victim, most likely, knows the culprit. I'll see you both in about two hours then."

"Where are you off to?" Draco questioned.

"Investigative team. I'll see if the victim's still out of it and find out if they've gotten any hits off of her close friends and acquaintances. I'm sure you wouldn't mind spending your time with the kettle and your girlfriend. Wait," Travers smiled a little. "Our _work associate_ , I should say. Only one of us have to be here anyway –Containment Center regulations."

Travers left the room while whistling a tune. Once the door was closed Hermione sighed and set the kettle down.

"Arrogant, yes, but he is right about the regulations."

Draco made an exaggerated gagging noise and scrunched up his nose. "Don't ever say that he's right –even if he is."

Hermione shook her head at him and chuckled. "If you say so. Now come with me back to my office. I have to grab a couple of my books on Ancient Runes."

* * *

 **Author's note:** There's definitely some good things in store when your significant other works in the same place as you lol. Travers still sucks, of course ;)

-WP

 **Guest:** Thank you! I have this thing with making readers feel, or at least I try to lol. I'm really glad that you like it :)


	32. Of Future Things

"Your mother is certainly on top of things, isn't she?" Hermione asked. Draco wasn't sure what she was talking about, but as he took the letter she was handing him he finally understood why.

 _Dear Miss Granger,_

 _You are cordially invited to Malfoy Manor_

 _on the 31st of August_

 _at 7:00pm_

 _to celebrate the official acceptance_

 _of Draco Malfoy's entry into the Ministry of Magic's_

 _Auror Department_

 _Cordially Yours,_

 _Narcissa Malfoy_

"How fancy of an affair is she planning?"

"Not how the invitation looks, I promise you." Draco said as he gave it back to her. "Fifty people, tops."

Hermione's eyes bulged. " _Fifty?_ That's not extravagant to you?"

Draco chuckled and shook his head. "Our annual Christmas dinner is one hundred fifty at minimum."

"One hundred fifty…? Malfoy, that's ridiculous."

"Perhaps to you, but you're forgetting something. It means very little to me now, but the Malfoys _are_ a pureblood family. We've spent a lot of time across decades making acquaintances, friends, allies, you name it. For events like that they _all_ get invited."

"I see." Hermione mused as she turned over the invitation in her hand. "And so for this? Who would be there?"

Draco stared at her with a gentle tilt of his head. "Are you actually going to go?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip and shrugged, but she didn't actually answer. "The guest list?"

"...Well, my mother, obviously. Blaise and Liliana, most definitely. I imagine Pansy and a few other friends. That would make up I'd say about ten people of the guest list. Add another ten for close family members and the rest family friends of my mother's."

Draco watched his girlfriend closely as he rattled off the potential guest list. Her face had been calm and happy at the mention of Blaise and his wife, a little less so when he had named Pansy, and he guessed that her imagination was running wild at the thought of his family and the others.

He took a deep breath and reached across the kitchen table for her hand. "You don't have to go."

"I know I don't." Hermione replied. "But the party is for you. I… I _want_ to go. Besides, with all of the people there I should be okay. Even better than okay if I don't see _that room_ or anything that looks like it. Can… Can that be done?"

"Absolutely," Draco nodded. "If this is what you want, then yes, I'll take care of it."

"Okay. Good. And in turn, you let me know what I can do for you about this."

The "this" Hermione was referring to was an envelope only marginally less fancy than the one she had gotten from his mother. What puzzled him was the fact that his name was on it. Without questioning it first, Draco took it and read its contents. Hermione watched him, knowing full-well what it was about, and analyzed his facial features as he read the whole thing through.

"You've got to be kidding." Draco said as he looked up at her. "Miss Ginger's finally lost her marbles."

Hermione laughed, taking the Potter-Weasley wedding invitation from his hands. "Have I ever told you that I find the nicknames you give Ginny absolutely adorable?"

Draco's nose wrinkled. "Adorable… Not exactly what I was going for, but nevertheless, she's the least annoying out of that sea of red, hence the better nicknames sans sneer."

"I'll take that to mean you like her –and no, I won't tell her that you do."

"Thank you."

Hermione smiled and she returned the invitation to him. "You don't have to go to the wedding, you know. This isn't a quid pro quo thing since I'm going to your party."

"But since you _are_ going, I'll look like an utter arse not to accept the invitation. Especially under the circumstances that you've accepted yours." Draco mused as he read over the contents of the invitation one more time. In the process Hermione had reached over and taken one of his hands in hers.

"No one there is going to bite." Hermione said. "I promise. And certainly not with my threat to hex every last one of them if they say anything negative to you."

Draco chuckled. "I think I can defend myself against a couple of Weasleys and their friends if I have to. So long as it doesn't cause a scene. That's the last either you or I need."

"Yes, well, there's only one Weasley who would be fool enough to start a fight with you and he's been on a pretty tight leash as of late."

Draco smirked. "Ah yes, dating the Brown girl, if I recall correctly? Sounds more like a set of shackles to me."

"Draco," Hermione scolded with a huge grin. "That's not a nice thing to say. Besides, she's not nearly as horrible as she was in school."

"Spend that much time with her to know that, do you?"

"No, but it's a dearest hope."

Draco laughed. "And you tell me I'm not nice." He took a moment to summon a Self-Inking Quill and scribbled his reply on the spare bit of parchment that had been included with the wedding invitation. He then passed the quill to Hermione who did the same thing with hers.

"February, huh?" Draco said as he folded his reply. "Never figured them for winter wedding people."

"It's more a memory for them." Hermione said. "Harry first said that he loved Ginny around Valentine's Day."

"Oh, well that's nice. Is…is that what you would want?"

Hermione, who had writing Narcissa's name on the back of the return envelope sent with her invitation, had drawn out the end of the final "A" rather long and across the entire envelope. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"I, well…" She swallowed and shrugged. "Yes, I think that would be lovely. It would mean something even more then. Would…would you?"

"I'd do whatever you-" Draco paused abruptly before finishing in a mumble, "Whatever you wanted."

The kitchen was deathly quiet. After a couple of seconds Draco was bustling about the kitchen washing dishes while Hermione was clearing away her excess ink and gathering up both her and Draco's invitations so that she could owl them off. Their topic of discussion was promptly left hanging in the air.

* * *

"How are things with Travers?"

"He's serious about his job, which is great."

"But?" Uriel pressed. He and Draco were using the rare opportunity of a synced schedule to have lunch. The man was good people, so Draco thought, and he was happy that something more than just a new career had come out of Auror Training.

"When he opens his mouth I want to kill him." Draco grumbled. Uriel laughed and shook his head as he piled some food onto his fork.

"I'm surprised you haven't done it already. But good for you. If you're going to lose your job over something, best not let it be for a sod like Travers."

"Very true. I love being an Auror. Not to mention the perks."

Uriel smiled. "Tease me, why don't you? MPs and Espionage rarely ever work together."

"Now that you mention it, how's Lydia's training going?"

"Boring, so she says. A lot of it is tactic training and how not to get caught. To tell you the truth though," Uriel frowned. "I'm a bit frightened for her. Assignments can vary and who knows what kind of persona she'll have to adopt or what she'll have to do or for _how long_ she'll have to do it."

"Hey, don't be worried. Take it from another member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight," Draco encouraged. "She'll be able to handle herself just fine."

"I suppose. How's Hermione handling you being in DA? You guys have to deal with some pretty dangerous stuff."

"So far so good. I think it helps that I turn to her for everything Travers and I don't understand. She _is_ one of the Magical Researchers on my case after all."

"How convenient." Uriel chuckled. "Or blatant favoritism,"

Now it was Draco's turn to laugh. Favoritism? Shown towards _him?_ In the Ministry of Magic of all places? Although, it was pretty clear that Auror Juno did like him. She liked him better than Travers anyway.

"Did you get my mother's invitation?" Draco asked.

"Finally got it last night. Sorry it took nearly a week for the owl to get to us. Lydia's got so many wards around our place it's a miracle the Daily Prophet can get delivered."

"What? No wards of your own?"

"What need?" Uriel shrugged. "As you said, Lydia's part of the big twenty-eight. She's been taught so many protection spells she could teach a class. You too, I imagine."

Draco nodded. There'd be no breaking into his house – _that_ was for certain. Or Hermione's apartment after he had put his wand to it. It seemed to be a common skill among the oldest sets of wizarding families (Sacred Twenty-Eight nor not). They lived for protecting their own. For making sure that their families stayed strong so that they could last through generations. It was the reason that many of them sought pureblood marriages as though that had a hand in strength –magical or otherwise.

And then he thought of Hermione and his minor slip in her kitchen a week back. He hadn't even thought through his words before saying them. It just…came out. What made it funny was that it had come out so naturally as though there was nothing to it. But there was, wasn't it?

"Uriel, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what is it?"

Draco played with the food on his plate and said hesitantly, "Did you feel…odd or nervous about getting involved with a pureblood? Even more so considering Lydia's a Rosier?"

Uriel was clearly caught off-guard by the question. Draco felt a tad bit of shame for asking, but his friend didn't shy away from it. "A bit. I mean, when you hear the name 'Rosier' you kind of get this foreboding feeling." He chuckled. "I'm a half-blood, so I wasn't _too_ scared. Besides, a woman who moves her family away from the rest of the crazy You-Know-Who-loving ones couldn't have been all bad –no offence."

"None taken," Draco smiled. "I guess that made marrying Lydia easier then, yes?"

Uriel's mouth dropped. "Are you…? Are you thinking about asking Hermione to marry you?"

Draco felt himself blush terribly and he _hated_ to blush. "I didn't say that."

"You didn't _not_ say it."

"It's not what you think. Hermione's friends are getting married soon so the topic kind of just popped up. It just got me thinking about what she might feel if, you know, I _did_ ask her."

"Easy. She'll be thrilled and she'll say yes."

Draco snorted. "That's what I _want_ her to say – _would want._ " He corrected, another hideous blush overtaking his features. Uriel smiled broadly.

"It's what she _will_ –oh, sorry, it's what she _would_ say _if_ you did ask her. Why? Because from what I've heard, if anyone's willing to go through the scrutiny that you two have been through, then there's something about you that she loves. Only a fool gives up what they love, and Hermione Granger's no fool."

* * *

Travers groaned as he wiped his hands over his face. "This case is going to be the death of me."

For once, Draco couldn't disagree with him. There was one week left of training and it was already decided that this case would take much longer than the month of August. The tea kettle had been dismantled (physically and magically), and thanks to Hermione the Anicent Runes text had been deciphered to an English version of the Targeting Spell. However, the victim had never woken up from her comatose state and, unfortunately, had died earlier today. The Investigative Division was at a standstill and, without any artefacts to take apart, the Dark Arts Division was at a standstill as well.

"Me too," Draco yawned. "But until there's another break or a new deathtrap to pick apart we'll be getting another case."

"That must hurt you something sore." Travers chuckled. "The highlight of this case for you was getting to see your girlfriend every five to ten minutes."

Draco scowled. "You know, I'm pretty sure there's a way that we can talk _without_ you bringing Hermione into the conversation when she doesn't need to be."

"Well, excuse me." He smirked. "It seems that I've touched a nerve."

"Hell yes, you've touched a nerve. _What_ is your problem?" Draco stood. He had been sitting at a work desk across from Travers, but there was no way that he could just stay rooted when their talk had turned in such a direction. "Just when I think you're one-eighth less of an arse, you're twice that. You've got something to say? Say it. Right here, right now."

"Alright, fine." Travers said, standing just the same. "You and your spoiled rich arse get everything you want when you don't deserve it. You were a Deatheater, but did you go to Azkaban? No. You brought Deatheaters into Hogwarts, and the Headmistress _still_ let you return. You fought opposite Harry Potter during the war and now his best friend is your girlfriend. _That baffles my mind,_ how she can look past everything you were and be with you. And now you're here, an Auror, after fighting for its destruction. _That_ is my problem with you."

"Oh, you have a problem alright." Draco sneered at him. "You and everyone else who fails to see the difference between the present _and my past._ The only thing you need to concern yourself with is the fact that I'm not out casting Avada's left and right. So, until I start doing that, how about you worry about something that actually matters? Something that _doesn't_ have anything to do with me or my love life."

Travers opened his mouth to say something, but he snapped it shut when Draco took two quick strides so that he was directly in front of his face.

"And for the record," Draco continued in a low tone with his sneer still in place. "I can _easily_ become the man you think I still am. If it has nothing to do with work, do _not_ bring Hermione up again."

* * *

 **Author's note:** Hmm, Draco's thinking about something! Warms my soul… Also, Travers better watch out! Don't mess with his witch ;)

Also, this story hit 500+ follows yesterday. THANK YOU! I had no idea what would've become of this little one-shot, but I'm so happy that I wrote more!

-WP


	33. Moving Forward

Draco was proud of Hermione. The party at the Manor was this Saturday and she had been preparing herself for it ever since she said that she would go. That meant getting those files from the Ministry again and going through them. This time around she didn't do it alone. Draco was never in the room, but he was always nearby waiting and listening for any signs of distress. That's when he'd run in and breathe with her to calm her down. When Hermione first started doing it, it had been…stressful and painful to see her in such a petrified state. He would've never guessed in a million years that she would have been so affected –even now.

Thankfully, now she was able to go through the files without having a full-blown panic attack. Now it was just a bodily shake, pale skin, and an accelerated heartrate. Still bad, but at least she didn't hyperventilate or start screaming. _That_ would certainly be a sight to see in a room full of people. But true to his word, Draco had things in place should the evening not go according to plan. There were several exits for Hermione to go through should she need one, and although apparating in and out of the Manor was solely reserved for Malfoys only, she was the exception. He wanted her to be okay, and he would do everything it took to make it happen.

There was just one thing left to go through before the party, and Hermione was very moody about it.

"I'm not going to try eating soup with my fingers or something." The brunette grumbled angrily. Draco laughed. Merlin he loved her.

"You are nowhere near an unacceptable social mess, no, but still-"

"Whatever you're going to say, say it _carefully._ "

Draco smirked. "My mother will appreciate the attempt."

Hermione bit her lower lip. If the past couple of months was anything to go by, she didn't care what anyone thought of her or her relationship with Draco. However, this was different. This was his _mother._ Every woman wanted to get in good with their boyfriend's mother. It was like this...unspoken rite of passage. It just so happened that this particular hurdle was a pureblood, high society witch and Hermione was… Well, she wasn't either.

Hermione let out a groan and crossed her arms. "Alright, let's get this over with."

"Fine. _That_ is the first thing that we're _not_ going to do." Draco said as he uncrossed her arms. "No matter how pissed you get, there'll be none of that. Or making fists. No stomping of the feet either."

She snorted. "What am I? Four?"

"Had I closed my eyes and heard that snort, then I'd say so, yes."

"Just for that comment I refuse to have sex with you for a full week."

It was his turn to snort. "As _if_ you could hold back for a week."

"Hey! _You_ just snorted. Why can't I?"

"Because I can control it. You, on the other hand, cannot." Draco smiled. "Now sit. We have to work on your posture."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Do I look like a hunchbacked troll when I sit?" Hermione brooded bitterly. Draco took the time to position his hands on her back and push when necessary so she was in the proper sitting position.

"I could never call you a troll. However, you're still the most beautiful hunchback I've ever seen."

"I take it back. Make that _two_ weeks without sex."

Draco nearly rolled over in hysterics. This was going to be one long and arduous task.

"Tell you what," Draco said as he took a step back and regarded her posture from the side. "Get through all of this and I'll spoil you rotten afterwards."

Hermione cocked a brow and eyed him suspiciously. "How rotten?"

"Massage. Oils included. And food."

"What kind of food?"

"Chocolate, honey, strawberries, cherries, whipped cream-"

"Draco," she couldn't help but laugh. "Those are all aphrodisiacs."

The blond smiled. "You noticed that, did you?"

Hermione shook her head and continued to smile. "Alright, Mr. Malfoy. Let's hurry this up so I can get my special treatment."

"That's _Professor_ Malfoy to you." Draco playfully corrected. "Now sit up straighter. And for the love of Merlin, do _not_ cross your legs at the knees."

* * *

Hermione was moaning delectably as well as letting soft purrs escape her lips.

"Lower," she murmured softly. Draco complied and moved his hands down to her lower back. "Draco," she groaned happily. "I swear your hands are amazing."

He smiled. "So you've told me before." Draco applied a bit more pressure then leaned over to whisper in her ear, "And I wasn't massaging your back at the time."

Hermione smirked and awkwardly swatted him with the back of her hand. "Don't be fresh. And do what you did just a second ago with your thumbs."

Draco licked his lips and did what she asked. "My, my, you're bossy tonight."

"After two hours of etiquette hell I deserve to boss you around for a bit."

"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad."

"You gave me a lesson on how to drink out of a wine glass! It's no wonder purebloods only marry each other. No muggleborn or half-blood for that matter would subject themselves to that crap."

Draco paused his massage to laugh and to laugh loudly. He even had tears in his eyes. Hermione turned over in time to see the end of his laughing fit and he bent over to capture her lips with his.

"I already know that I love you." He told her after pulling away. "And then you go and say something like that to make me love you more."

Hermione could feel the blush rising to her cheeks. He'd been telling her that he loved her since the start of the summer and even now it still sounded foreign in her ears. Foreign and welcomed and left her stomach in utter knots.

"I guess this means that you don't want a docile, picture-perfect woman for a wi-" Hermione cut herself completely. She was about to say "wife." If Draco had noticed her near slip he didn't let on that that was the case. Instead she quickly corrected herself. "Companion. You don't want that kind of woman for a companion."

The rouge in her cheeks was more prominent now. Draco still thought she looked wonderful bathed in red. Her embarrassment was adorable as well as her shyness. How somehow so strong could have this shockingly timid side to her was beyond him. As he had thought once before, she could have the force of a lion or demureness of a kitten at times. He loved her either way.

"No, I don't." Draco said softly as he let a finger trace the outline of Hermione's face. "I want a woman who's outspoken, much too kind and optimistic for her own good, with brown eyes, bushy brown hair, and the faintest splash of freckles on the bridge of her nose."

Hermione felt her voice catch in her throat. It took three attempts and a swallow before she could get out, "That's...that's oddly specific."

Draco shrugged and kissed her forehead. "I have a type."

* * *

The moment Hermione had told him that she was going shopping with Ginny to look for something to wear for Saturday, Draco had immediately made plans to meet up with Blaise. She was bound to spend _hours_ with the redhead and there was no point in him being bored out of his mind while she was gone.

"Liliana picked out her dress last week and made _me_ go with her." Blaise mock shivered. "I never want to see another clothing store again."

Draco snickered as he picked off a piece of his croissant and popped it into his mouth. "I thought you did everything with her. I thought you worshipped every activity she did right down to biting her cuticles."

"Ha ha, very funny. I'll have you know that although I love my wife dearly, there are just some things a man is _not_ built to do. Endless shopping happens to be one of them."

"Luckily Hermione hasn't asked me to do such a thing yet. Thank Merlin,"

"Well, once she's surrounded by a group of estrogen-laden friends I doubt she'll ever."

One of Draco's brows raised. "She only has one true female friend. Two, if you count Weasley."

Blaise laughed. "I thought you were supposed to play nice with Hermione's friends?"

"She's not within earshot, is she?"

"There's that cunning dripping off of you." Blaise smirked. "And I said what I said because of Liliana. She'll be spending a lot of time shopping in London, and not to mention she'd appreciate a friend. Draco, we're moving. Here."

Although Draco had heard perfectly well what Blaise had said, he was still in denial. He took a moment to push his food away from him and to lean forward.

"Don't toy with me now." The blond told him. "You're serious?"

Blaise nodded with a huge grin. "I am. Liliana doesn't have any family in Italy and she knows how close I am to you. She figures here would be a perfect place to live. To live and, well, to raise our unborn son or daughter."

 _That_ made Draco knock over his glass of water. He stared at him with wide eyes and a slow curve of his lips upwards. "She's…? And you, you're going to be a…?"

"What did I once say about using your big words, Draco?" Blaise teased.

Draco laughed as he rose out of his seat to give his friend a hug. "Congrats, Blaise. That's really great news."

"Thanks mate. We're really excited." He replied as he returned the hug.

"A father…" Draco repeated in disbelief. "Merlin, you're going to be a terrible influence."

"Hey," Blaise feigned hurt. "You're the second person to tell me that."

"Who was the first?"

"Liliana," Blaise grinned. "Although, if you ask me if anyone's going to be the bad influence it'll be you, Uncle Draco."

Draco smirked. "I think you underestimate me. Besides, Hermione wouldn't let me be that terrible."

"Ah, thinking in future terms with the witch, are we?"

"Don't start."

"Too late." Blaise said as he put some money on the table and urged him to start on their walk. "Has it crossed your mind at all? Marrying her?"

"…I admit, yes, a bit." Draco told him. "But it's too soon. I mean, we haven't even been together for a full year yet. Hell, we only labeled us at the start of the summer."

"One. Week." His friend reminded him. "Compared to that the both of you are taking a millennia."

"Oh, you can't use yourself as a comparison. You're a hopeless romantic and would jump off the roof in an attempt to fly if it meant spending the rest of your life with your soulmate."

"Hmm, well, you are right about that one. And it would be the happiest moment of flight in my life."

Draco sighed. "Blaise,-"

"Draco, listen to me. If there's one thing I can tell you for certain is that time is irrelevant when it comes to loving someone. Now, I'm not telling you to go propose to her tomorrow, but don't dismiss the idea just because you think it's too soon. Besides, you're never going to find a woman like Hermione to love you like she does."

Draco furrowed his brow. "Was that a compliment or an insult?"

"Both,"

"Arse,"

Blaise laughed. "Definitely never finding a woman who'll love you like her."

* * *

No, Draco wasn't going to propose tomorrow. Not even next week. But when his mind was plagued with something it had a nasty habit of sticking around until he was satisfied. He couldn't help but wonder about the implications of marrying Hermione. Despite his talks with Blaise and Uriel, he was still worried about it being too soon, but most importantly about her position in his world. Because yes, there was a world, much like Theo had once told him (although he didn't want to admit it). It was strict, aristocratic, and unfortunately, pureblooded. It didn't matter to him anymore, honestly, but her comfort with it all did. That was why he had taken the time to make her go through "etiquette hell." Aside from appeasing his mother with the attempt, it would make any jabs at her less likely (not to mention his need to hex anyone who dared to disrespect her in any way).

Dating was one thing. If it got too much you could easily get out of it, although with a bit of heartbreak. But marriage… That was something else entirely. And yet, that didn't stop him from heading into a jewelry shoppe in wizarding London. He didn't know what he was looking for, but figured that he'd know it when he saw it. And then what? Buy it, hide it, and then propose when he was ready?

It wasn't a terrible idea.

And so he casually browsed. He spotted some that were much too gaudy. Others that were too simple. He couldn't decide if he should just get diamonds or maybe colored stones. Perhaps a mixture of both? All in all it was giving him a migraine. _Nothing_ , however, augmented his headache more when he heard a familiar voice enter the shoppe.

 _The world is much too small,_ Draco thought as he spied Ginny from the corner of his eye. She was speaking amicably with one of the workers who went into the rear of the shoppe. That's when the redhead's gaze turned, and she finally spotted him.

She was surprised, to say the least, to find him in a jewelry shoppe. After a couple of seconds she must have realized what the possible reasons were for him being in a place like this. It took one look at the section of the shoppe he was standing in for it to click.

Ginny's eyes went wide. "I can't believe it. I _can't_ believe it. I can't believe it!"

Draco scowled. "Come now, certainly you've got a better vocabulary than that."

Ginny seemed to have snapped out of her trance at that and finally zeroed in on Draco. "How are you going to do it?"

Draco scrunched his brows together. "Sorry?"

"Propose, you idiot!" She explained with glee as she stepped a bit closer. "How are you going to do it?"

The blond was struck dumbfounded. He must have stood there with his mouth agape for several seconds before finally gathering his bearings. And even then he was still stumped.

"That's it? That's all you have to say?"

"What else am I supposed to say?"

"Plenty," Draco said with surety. "Anything along the lines of 'over my dead body' is perfectly acceptable."

Ginny, despite herself, smiled. "Malfoy, in case you've forgotten, I invited you to my wedding and you accepted."

"And _that_ means you're okay with me wanting to marry your friend?"

"It means that I can't exactly categorize you in the enemy category anymore." She said with a sincere expression. "You may still a ridiculous, annoying git, yes, but the important thing is that you love Hermione and she loves you back. I have no right to step in the way of that and I'm not going to. Now," she said as she put her hands on her hips. "Are you going to tell me how you plan on proposing to her or not?"

Draco wasn't the only person at the mercy of his mouth as it curved into a smile. He took a deep breath and stuck his hands at the rim of his pockets. "I don't know. Honestly speaking, I just came in here to see what kind of rings they had. I can't really think beyond this step at the moment."

"I can help you find one that she'll like." Ginny said excitedly. "I mean, if you want, that is."

Did he want the help? Did he need it? Draco, of course, would never admit his answer to either of those two questions, not in his mind nor out loud. Instead he motioned with his head for her to join him at the case of engagement rings he'd been stuck at for hours.

"Let's get to it, Red."

* * *

 **Author's note:** It's happening! It's happening! I can't contain my own excitement and I'm the one writing the thing lol. And Blaise is going to be a father… Oh my little heart can't take it.

Hope that you liked it!

-WP

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	34. Meet & Greet

"Oh Draco, it's so good of you to come here to dress before your party." Narcissa said with a smile as she put on his cufflinks.

Draco smirked. "That wouldn't happen to be your indirect way of saying that you miss me, is it, Mother?"

"Well, you do spend an obscene amount of time with Miss Granger these days."

"She's my girlfriend. Of course I'm going to be spending time with her."

"Lunches and dinners, yes." Narcissa elaborated once she had finished. "But you sleep there as well. Courting rules dictate that-"

"A gentleman doesn't overstay his welcome in the woman's home past the setting sun." Draco recited. "Yes, I know. But unfortunately, these archaic rules don't take in account how much you don't want to be away from your loved one."

Narcissa's gaze softened. She stared at her son whose eyes were alight, a smile on his lips, and aura around him that just seemed so…at peace. As his mother she couldn't deny his happiness or berate him on how he went about getting it. Especially when taking into account his past and what he'd been through.

She sighed. "Yes, alright. But please, Draco, if you're going to break any more of these rules will you do me the courtesy of letting me know in advance? I'd like to give your ancestors a chance to prepare to roll over in their graves."

Draco rolled his eyes and failed miserably in suppressing the upward turn of his lips. Since his mother had provided him with the opportunity, he'd might as well break it to her now.

"I do plan on breaking yet another rule, Mother."

Narcissa raised a brow. "Oh?"

"Yes," he nodded before taking a deep breath. "I want to ask Hermione to marry me."

The look on his mother's face was a true sight to behold. First, her other eyebrow rose. Second, her eyes widened. Third, her jaw slackened enough to slowly fall open –wide enough to display her shock, but not so wide as to be grotesque. She was still a lady after all.

"But you've only been together for a couple of months!"

"I know."

"But she's…" Narcissa paused, trying to think of a way to word this properly without angering her son. "…She won't fit in." She said after a while. "Our family and friends won't take kindly to this."

"I'm not marrying her for their benefit." Draco replied with a shrug of his shoulders. "I've done too many things in my life for the pleasure and acceptance of others. As of late, I've become quite happy doing things to appease _myself_."

"And I'm happy for you. _Truly_ , I am, but-"

"Where did you think this would go?" He suddenly asked. "That Hermione would just be a short fling and then I'd end up with a pureblood witch?"

Narcissa gasped. "I've never said that!"

"Doesn't mean that you haven't thought about it. I know you, and I have to tell you that you need to put those thoughts to rest. I love her and…when you love someone time is irrelevant. So is everyone's thoughts on the matter. Although," Draco made sure to add. "I do care about yours. I'm going to ask her to marry me no matter what, but it would mean a great deal to me if you approved in some way."

Narcissa frowned. After a moment of silence including the worried and anxious stare of her only child, she pursed her lips and placed a hand on his cheek. "My darling boy… Despite my reservations on the matter, your happiness always triumphs that. I'll stand by you no matter what so long as you _honestly_ understand the repercussions. There are infinite possibilities, and they're all serious."

"I do." Draco nodded. "And if she's willing to go through them with me, it's the next best thing she could ever do."

"What's the first?"

"Saying yes."

* * *

Hermione didn't have to find a lavish evening ball gown or anything since this wasn't a formal event. It was semi-formal, so the invitation had said, which Draco had informed her meant a half level below formal. And so she had chosen a deep violet modest knee-length with ample enough cleavage to showcase one of her best assets (Ginny's doing) and form-fitted to her figure. Conservative yet sexy. Add on diamond studs, silver bracelets and violet pumps, Hermione could safely take Draco's speechlessness as a good sign.

"You remind me of the masquerade ball." Draco said simply. Hermione could do nothing but smile and feel a flutter in her stomach because, quite frankly, he reminded her of that day too. No, he wasn't all decked out in dress robes, but a simple pair of black slacks, crisp white shirt, and a black jacket over him. He had this…air of innocence about him that made him seem unreal. And she loved him.

"Thank you. You don't look half bad yourself."

"Half bad? That's all? Well now I just feel inadequate."

Hermione laughed as she grabbed her wand and put it in a charmed slit she'd made in her dress. "You look wonderful, Draco. As always. So, are you ready to go?"

"I should be asking you that question." Draco said as he took her hand. "Are _you_ ready?"

The brunette knew what he was getting at and she took a deep breath. "I've been prepping for days. You gave me a layout of the ballroom and all of the exits that I might need. I think… I think I'm okay."

"As long as you're sure. I promise that I won't leave your side at all, and if you need to go, then just squeeze my hand, alright?"

Hermione nodded. Draco smiled and gave her a kiss before he disapparated. Everyone else would be arriving by Floo, but Malfoy name and all of that. Hermione's heart had stopped for just a moment when they had disapparated. When they landed she realized that her eyes were closed and they were coaxed open by Draco's gentle and soothing words. When she finally did open them she found herself in a very vibrant and non-threatening foyer. It was a stark contrast to the dark, gloomy, and desolate-looking Manor that she and her friends had been carted off too.

The floor was a polished marble. The walls were made out of an identifiable stone and carvings of cherubs with enormous wings. From the part of the long hall that she could see, it was outlined with paintings. Perhaps portraits? Along the floor was a long stretch of carpet that led to elsewhere into the Manor. And up on the ceiling there was a beautiful chandelier and Hermione couldn't help but smile at it.

"It's beautiful in here." She found herself saying. Draco followed suit in her content expression and began leading her down the hall with the carpet.

"I'm glad that you like it. My mother took to decorating after… Well, after. She wanted the place to give off a different energy."

"Your mother did well."

As they went down the hall Hermione realized that what hung on the walls really were portraits. The first thing that she noticed was that everyone looked alike. Blond hair, maybe a shade or two lighter or darker on occasion, and either blue or grey eyes. Occasionally some brown. The second thing that she noticed was that their mouths were moving, but no sound was coming out.

"Draco, why can't I hear what they're saying?"

Draco frowned. "You don't want to know what they're saying."

"Oh," Hermione pouted. Draco noticed and he squeezed her hand.

"Mother and I have tried to remove them over the years, but it's impossible. Whatever magic my ancestors put on them can't be reversed. I'm really sorry-"

"Don't be. You silenced them and I appreciate that."

"Good." Draco nodded.

They continued walking to what Draco told her was one of their "smaller" ballrooms. They paused in the entryway for a moment because of Hermione. She wanted to assess the room with a careful glance before fully stepping in, and she found all of the exits that Draco had described to her. As for the guests, there were quite a few people here already and she tried to figure out who they were. A laugh similar to a cackle is what caught her ears first, and she spotted Pansy Parkinson. Hermione fought a grimace. As a proclaimer of someone's past not defining their present, she would feel like a complete hypocrite if she hated the woman on sight. Theodore Nott, on the other hand, was a different story considering the drunken mess he had turned Draco into earlier that year. He seemed to have spotted them first and, if she wasn't mistaken, he looked surprised.

Blaise and Liliana hadn't made it yet which made her feel uncomfortable, but there was a couple here who seemed rather friendly and waved at Draco enthusiastically. Judging from their appearance, Hermione assumed that these were his Auror friends he had told her about –Uriel and Lydia Harper. The hostess of this affair was out mingling, and Hermione took a deep breath while trying to differentiate her traits from that of her evil sister. Narcissa was mingling with other people who looked quite similar to her and Draco. Their family. The idea of it struck her as odd. Whenever she thought of Draco's family the only people who came to mind was Narcissa and Lucius. To come to the conclusion that there were _more_ Malfoys or simply anyone of relation to them just seemed…daunting.

"Let's greet the friendly ones first, yes?" Draco suggested. Hermione nodded and she took a deep breath as they left the hall and into the ballroom with the other guests. She could feel everyone's eyes on them immediately. Some were polite. Others were curious. And then there were some, particularly from the Malfoy family tree, who were absolutely astonished at the scene. But she paid them no mind and neither did Draco as they approached Uriel and Lydia.

"Uriel, Lydia," Draco smiled as he greeted them.

"Draco! I haven't seen you since training!" Lydia said enthusiastically as she hugged him. "Espionage is intense."

"I'd be surprised if it wasn't. Regretting your choice yet?"

"Not at all. Intense, but great is what I say." Lydia grinned and then she turned to Hermione with her hand outstretched. "You must be _the_ Hermione Granger. Forgive me if I'm a little star-struck and if I know a bit too much about you. Aside from the fact that you're famous, Draco always talks about you."

Hermione shook Lydia's hand and tried her best not to blush as she gave a side-glance to Draco. "He does, does he? All good things I hope."

"Always!"

Draco chuckled. "Nice way to embarrass me."

Uriel laughed. "That's my wife's specialty. Hi, I'm Uriel."

"Nice to meet you," Hermione said pleasantly. "Have the both of you been here long?"

"No, not too long. About twenty minutes or so. It's been…an _interesting_ twenty minutes." Uriel smirked. Draco furrowed his brow.

"How so?"

Lydia raised a finger and pointed it at herself. "Formerly a Rosier here, remember? Your family is quite interested in that."

Draco groaned. "Bleeding hell. I'm sorry. I probably should've warned you that they're-"

"Oh, there's no need to apologize." Lydia assured him. "It was actually quite fun pointing out Uriel's heavy muggleborn and muggle 'infested' family. Their faces were priceless. Hermione, if you please, do have fun with them and tell me a story will you?"

Hermione laughed. "I'll try my best."

Draco shook his head. "I think this party just got a bit more interesting."

"I'd say so." A new voice joined the conversation. Everyone turned their attention to Pansy and someone who Hermione could only surmise as to be her date. The man also looked very much like Draco with the exception of darkened hair. Judging how both he and Draco greeted each other, she assumed she was right.

"You haven't grown sick of her yet?" Draco asked. Pansy narrowed her eyes and scowled in his direction while the gentleman laughed.

"Not yet." Jacques smiled. "She's quite sweet."

"There's no need to lie, you know."

" _Draco_ ," Hermione and Pansy admonished. The former was more playful than the other, but either way both women took notice of each other and Pansy lifted her chin.

"Granger," she greeted. "It's been a while."

"So it has." Hermione replied. "Things have been well with you, I take it?"

Pansy grinned and held onto Jacque's arm. "Very well as a matter of fact." She took a moment to eye the brunette's hold on Draco and smiled smugly. "It seems things have been going well for you too. Come on, Jacques. We still have a bit of mingling to do."

Pansy tugged him along and Jacques made eye-contact with Draco before leaving. Uriel snickered.

"So he _was_ lying then, yes?" Uriel asked. Draco nodded.

"Absolutely. I feel kind of terrible though seeing as I _did_ sort of introduce them. As my cousin I should've been kinder."

If a comment like that couldn't put Hermione at ease then nothing would. But of course, the presence of someone else from her past who, unfortunately, made her present somewhat uncomfortable would do the trick. When she turned around there the regal woman stood. Narcissa Malfoy was dressed in Slytherin green, her hair rolled neatly into a bun atop her head and her hands clasped in front of her as she regarded the couple.

The Harpers left with a subtle nod to Draco that they'd see him later on, and soon it was just the Malfoy matriarch alone with her son and his girlfriend.

"Miss Granger, you look lovely." Narcissa said politely as she gave her hand. "Narcissa Malfoy. It's finally wonderful to meet you."

 _Blonde hair. Non-crazed eyes. Pleasant demeanor._ The brunette thought to keep herself calm.

"It's my pleasure as well." Hermione answered as she shook her hand. "Might I say that you look fantastic just the same."

Narcissa gave a short, aristocratic laugh that nearly made Draco snort, but he knew better than that. The simple pleasantries that went on between unacquainted people was perhaps the falsest conversation that a person could have, but necessary nonetheless. His mother would roll with the real talk momentarily and Draco's brows nearly shot off his head when she began.

"I hear that you're quite in love with my son."

Had Hermione been drinking something she would've choked on it. Instead she blinked once, glanced at Draco who was silently giving her all the apologies in the world when she parted her lips to reply.

"Well, yes, I really am. We've-"

"Narcissa, my dear," a gentleman of about Draco's height along with two other men approached them. "Draco," he said with a nod.

"Uncle Tiberius," Draco replied. He then motioned to Hermione and said proudly, "I'm sure you know of my girlfriend, Hermione Granger."

Tiberius, as well as the men who _must_ have Draco's relatives too, turned to look at her. His nose was crinkled and he looked as though he had been utterly insulted at having her in his presence.

"Yes…" He said in an uninterested drawl. "I do. Now, Narcissa," he turned back to the hostess. I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but you simply must reconsider your position on petitioning with us. The law that the Ministry is trying to pass on 'potentially harmful possessions' is absolutely ridiculous."

"Oh, Tiberius," Narcissa tutted. "Please, no politics tonight. And if you were unaware, I was in the middle of something with Miss Granger."

Tiberius huffed. "She can wait."

" _Uncle,_ " Draco warned, but Hermione put hand on his upper arm to steady him.

"Draco, it's fine." She said with a smile. "In fact, I'd actually like to weigh in."

Tiberius had looked completely taken aback at her words, but Hermione plowed on anyway.

"If you have a grievance with the law, then why don't you take the matters up with the members of the Law Committee responsible for it? I assure you that a petition won't work."

Tiberius scoffed. "And they call _you_ the brightest witch of her age? No one can simply 'take up matters' with the Law Committee."

"Well, considering that you're currently talking to one of said members, I think you can." Hermione grinned brightly. Draco smirked by her side while his uncle's mouth fell open (as well as his two other relatives). His mother's facial reaction didn't change much, but he knew intrigue when he saw it.

"I'll be happy to take down any issues you may have and bring them to Kingsley. Oh, I'm sorry." Hermione giggled into the back of her hand. " _Minister Shacklebolt._ Sometimes I forget not to refer to him by his first name when it's not personal. It's hard drawing the line between professionalism and friendship, wouldn't you agree?"

"I…well…" Tiberius stammered. Narcissa took a cool, calculated breath and gently cleared her throat.

"I don't think there'll be much need for me then, Tiberius." Narcissa commented before smiling in Hermione's direction. "Miss Granger seems to be all the help you require. Now, no more politics. Do enjoy the party."

That, everyone had gathered, had been a dismissal, and he and his companions left. Hermione closed her eyes briefly and sighed. That could've gone horribly, but thank Merlin her quick tongue didn't land her in any hot water. She was in complete bliss at having that tat-for-tat out of the way, but she snapped her eyes back open when Draco's mother spoke.

"Well done." The matriarch unexpectedly congratulated. "Anyone who can handle that uncouth man is quite the worthy individual. I hope you enjoy the festivities, Miss Granger. And do continue making my darling Draco happy, won't you?"

Hermione nearly stuttered. "I, well, yes. Of course. I wouldn't dream of doing anything else."

"Good." Narcissa replied contentedly. "Then I'm sure we'll get along fine."

* * *

Not a conventional meet and greet, but Hermione deemed her brief moment with Narcissa to be a success. She and Draco spent a good amount of their time with Uriel and Lydia, and when Blaise and Liliana showed up, the six of them kept each other company. With all of the frivolity it left very little time for Hermione to think of the bad things that had happened in some room either near or far from her. All she could see were smiling faces. She heard loud laughter. Everything was just…perfect and at peace. She even allowed Draco to leave her side for a moment to head to the restroom. She still had her…well, yes, she had her _friends_ to keep her company despite the fact that they were in their own conversations. This, however, freed up some time for someone she had yet to speak to for the night to capture her attention.

"You've caused a bit of a stir tonight." Theo said nonchalantly as he sipped on some champagne. Hermione merely shrugged.

"Draco and I have caused enough of a stir. Tonight has been no different."

"I don't know. Media is one thing, but these people are-"

"People," Hermione finished. "Whether reporters or purebloods, they'll talk no matter what."

"No, the _former_ talk." Theo explained. "Purebloods, on other hand, do a lot more than that. It's not safe for you here."

Hermione could hardly contain her scoff. "You actually care about my safety?"

Theo smirked. "Who do you think tipped off the Ministry about your apartment?"

Her eyes narrowed. "How did you even know about that?"

"I run in certain circles. And those circles hardly want a witch of your… _caliber_ any closer to their neck of the woods."

"Well," Hermione huffed gently. "Kindly tell your _circles_ that they can shove off."

Theo chuckled. Then he laughed. "I see why Draco is taken with you. Perhaps your feisty attitude will be enough."

Theo inclined his head, got up and walked away. Hermione stared after him and frowned before returning her gaze to the table.

"What did he say to you?" Blaise suddenly asked. Hermione looked up at him and then waved a dismissive hand

"Utter foolishness,"

Blaise, his face sporting an unfamiliar stern expression, shook his head. "Nothing Theo says is foolish. Draco may not have told you this yet, but I'll say it in his stead. Stay away from him."

* * *

 **Author's note:** Actions speak louder than words I'd say! Narcissa seemed to have seen something in Hermione she liked ;)

Sorry for the lateness, but holidays! Yey! Can't believe 2017 is almost here. Is it just me or did this year just fly?

-WP

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	35. Yes

_Did you do it yet?_

 _-G_

 _ **I think you'd know if I did.**_

 _ **-D**_

 _It's October. Are you seriously going to wait for snow?_

 _-G_

 _ **You said it was a good idea!**_

 _ **-D**_

 _Hell, you've never listened to me in your life. You're going to start now?_

 _-G_

 _ **You annoy the hell out of me. You know that?**_

 _ **-D**_

 _Likewise, ferret-face._

 _-G_

* * *

 _You're killing me._

 _-G_

 _ **And you're torturing me. Don't you have a wedding to plan?**_

 _ **-D**_

 _Yes, and it's a little hard to do it when you keep thinking about how you'll help your friend plan her own._

 _-G_

 _ **I took the ring out of my vault. I have it hidden at home.**_

 _ **-D**_

 _You idiot! You can't hide the ring at her house!_

 _-G_

 _ **How'd you know I meant there and not the Manor?**_

 _ **-D**_

 _Oh please, you spend eighty percent of your time with Hermione. As far as I'm concerned you don't live at Malfoy Manor anymore._

 _-G_

 _ **Regardless… I want to do it this weekend.**_

 _ **-D**_

 _No snow?_

 _-G_

 _ **I'll take her Chamonix and do it there. Plenty of snow.**_

 _ **-D**_

* * *

Each time Draco wrote a note to Ginny Weasley, soon to be Potter, or he got a note from her, he was still in denial. Next thing he knew he'd be taking walks with Weasley. It made him shiver just at the thought of it. However, he couldn't deny how instrumental she had been in helping him with this proposal. Her advice was often sound and her insults reminded him not to like her _too_ much. He still had some parts of his dignity to keep after all.

It was two days shy of November. Draco had managed to convince Hermione to take Friday off after she had thoroughly scolded him for asking for days off himself. So he had been told, he'd only been an Auror for two full months and to at least wait a while. Although he agreed, he considered a marriage proposal to win over work any day. Not to mention that the person he had to request time from was _not_ the Department Head (Thank Merlin), but rather from his division. He'd been right when he concluded that Auror Juno liked him.

And so he and Hermione walked around her bedroom, going through drawers and packing their respective trunks. He couldn't help but think about Ginny's words and him living here. Hermione had selflessly sacrificed three of her drawers and a quarter of her closet space to accommodate some of his belongings. And it was true, he was rarely at the Manor anymore except for lunches with his mother so she didn't think that he'd forgotten her.

"Hermione, have you seen my cufflinks?"

"Um, coffee table I think. Or on the floor." She replied as she made space in her own trunk. Draco stared at her with a slight tilt of his head.

"Why on earth would they be on the floor? I treasure those things like currency."

Hermione smiled as she walked over and wrapped her arms around his waist. "It might have something to do with me undoing them with my teeth last night."

Draco grinned like a fool. How could he possibly forget? Although alcohol was never necessary to initiate their sexual endeavors, it never hurt. Hermione had been quite amorous then, and she processed in her attempt to undress him with solely her lips and teeth. Granted it took longer than using hands, but he was _not_ one to complain. _Especially_ her attempts at his belt buckle.

Hermione laughed at his expression. He was _clearly_ remembering their romantic events after dinner last night and she roused him from his daydreams to go search for said cufflinks where she'd told him. Draco sheepishly left the bedroom while she continued to pack.

"They're not here!" Draco called to her.

"I'll check your drawers again!" Hermione called back. "Maybe you missed them!"

Draco had parted his lips to concede when he paused. His drawers. The ring. _The ring!_ He hurried himself out of the living room and to the bedroom with the hopes of keeping the witch away. He'd lie. He'd say he found the cufflinks and there was no need to search anymore. Easy. But by the time he had made it there Hermione already had the small black box in her hands. It was opened, and her usually small eyes were expanded and her mouth had fallen open.

"Draco?" She said as she looked up at him. She showed him the box she was holding and swallowed. "Draco, is this-?"

"It, um…" He hastily answered as he walked up to her and slipped the box out of her hand. "It's nothing, I-"

"Nothing?"

"Well, no, not _nothing._ I just… You…" Draco sighed deeply and briefly closed his eyes. "Bleeding hell. Hermione, I'm sorry. I should've moved it. I had this whole thing planned and now I've screwed it up. I was going to wait for a snow day you see. Like the night of the masquerade ball? But it's October, almost November, and Merlin knows how much patience I have, but I figured, what the hell? I'll wait. It would've been nice. We would've gone to the park and I would've kicked your arse in snowball fight or something. But then I said to myself that this is ridiculous-"

"Yes."

"-and I can't wait. I'll take you to Chamonix. You had liked it there. That's what this weekend was for. And I would've-"

"Draco," Hermione smiled, trying her hardest not to cry. "I said yes."

"Yeah, I know. I heard you. I just-" Draco faltered and stared her dead in the eyes. "I'm sorry, but…did you just say yes?"

Hermione nodded eagerly as she drew closer to him. "I did."

Draco felt like he was on the verge of a heart attack –but a good one. His hand was holding the ring box was shaking and he'd never felt so nervous in his life.

"Let me get this straight." He said with possibly the driest throat he'd ever had. "You, right now, are _actually_ agreeing to marry me?"

Hermione couldn't help it and let the happy tears flow. "Yes."

"Even though we've only been together less than a year?"

"Yes."

"And it's not too fast?"

"Everything about us is fast, Draco. I wouldn't take back any of it."

"So, you're sure-?"

Hermione laughed and pulled him by the collar so that she could kiss him. It was wet and filled with salty tears, but she didn't care. She pulled back from him and held his face in her hands. "If you ask me if I'm sure one more time I swear to Merlin that I'll curse you."

"Curse me, hex me. You can do whatever you want to me." Draco laughed with her as he finally took out the ring that had been waiting idly in his possession to finally be worn. "Just wear this."

Hermione's cheeks were absolutely drenched. Her eyes were so blurry that she could barely make out Draco slipping the diamond ring onto her finger. Rather she felt it, and it felt unreal. Engaged. They were _engaged._

"We're engaged." Hermione said in disbelief. She wiped her eyes messily so that she could see the ring clearly. Silver band. One large diamond in the middle and a smaller one on either side. She looked up at Draco before throwing her arms around him. "We're engaged!"

"Yes, we're engaged." Draco repeated as he lightly swung her around.

Engaged. Here's to a new chapter in his life.

* * *

Draco had booked the same suite he had back in June, and he found it even better to have gone there after "proposing." No, it hadn't gone the way that he had expected, but did it matter? Hermione wore her engagement ring proudly and he could see her tear up ever so slightly when she looked at it. The word "engaged" kept swimming around his head and on his tongue and he was still in disbelief about it. It was one thing to think about, but when it was actually done? He felt happy, relieved, excited, and scared all at once. Luckily that last one was at a bare minimum.

The moment they got to the room Draco didn't let Hermione go much further into it. He pulled her by the waist, her back pressed against him and his lips at her ear.

"I have one request for this weekend." He whispered to her, and Hermione closed her eyes at the tickle of it that travelled down her spine.

"What is it?"

"I want you naked for the entirety of it."

Well, if that wasn't enough to arouse the witch then nothing would. Over her short time with him, Hermione consistently added words to what she now, embarrassingly, called her "sextionary." Any and every word or phrase that set her on edge was in there. "Naked" was one of them. Not simply because her mind immediately flashed to images of her _fiancé_ without clothes, but because he'd always somehow be in close range whenever he said it. And now the back-end of that word had released his warm and seductive breath alongside her neck and it made her melt.

"Alright," Hermione agreed and raised her hands to her blouse, but Draco gently smacked them away.

"You don't get to undress yourself." He scolded, and Hermione let out a soft moan when Draco's lips found her neck. She was stuck between the sensation of his mouth and tongue on her skin and his hands smoothing across her hips, thighs, lingering _between_ thighs, before finally reaching to her pants and flicking the button open and the zipper down. Hermione made the mistake of attempting to slip her pants down, but a swift swat of Draco's hand stopped her. That and a bite of his that made her snap down on her own lips.

"What did I say?" Draco teased as he tugged her pants downwards. He let her go enough so that he could kneel down and lift her feet out of it. On his way back up he let his hands glide up her legs and Hermione did very little to hide her satisfaction from it. She squealed some when he suddenly turned her around in his arms. He grinned wickedly and then picked her up over his shoulder. Hermione laughed as he carried her from the doorway and into the bedroom where she was placed.

Hermione sat back on her elbows, watching him with delight as he stripped himself of everything. From his shirt, to his pants, right down to his underwear. She felt her voice hitch and she licked her lips once.

"I don't get to undress you?"

"No." Draco said simply as he climbed onto the bed. He hooked his pinky fingers into the sides of her underwear and slowly slipped them down. "I owe you for last night."

Hermione was fully prepared to feel him enter her, but instead she was laughing again as he tackled the buttons on her blouse with his teeth. She heard each one pop and then she smirked.

"I don't believe I _broke_ yours."

"Perks of magic, love." Draco said before popping another one. "It can be fixed."

Hermione half-heartedly rolled her eyes at him and then she gasped and let her eyes roll back for real when his tongue dipped between her. He could break as many things of hers he wished if this would be the result. Hell, he could burn down a library. She was lost in every stroke, her lips parted to make room for every moan and call of Draco's name. Moments later she was silenced by his lips –for all of three seconds. As he slipped himself inside her, moans had been replaced with delectable, ear-shattering cries along with Draco's guttural groans with every thrust he gave and every time she clenched.

And to think, it was only half-an-hour or so into their trip with an entire weekend ahead of them. Draco hoped that they could break a record.

* * *

 **Author's note:** ENGAGED! THEY'RE ENGAGED! I think that's a lovely way to start the New Year, don't you lol?

Cheers to a good start to 2017 everyone :)

-WP


	36. Sweet Gestures

There had been no point in packing clothes.

It was Sunday morning and true to his word, Hermione hadn't worn a single item of clothing since being disrobed after closing their suite door on Friday. They'd had more sex than she could count in such a short span of time. If she counted all acts of foreplay beforehand and in between, then Merlin help them. Her body was sore in all the good ways, and with an amused chuckle she thought that Draco would have one hell of a time topping this weekend. But then again, they had the rest of their lives to do that, didn't they?

As Draco slept, Hermione took a moment to admire her ring as she so often did when he wasn't paying attention. She still couldn't get the word "engaged" out of her mouth without disbelief trickling after it. Their love story was one for the ages. Bitter enemies. Fighting on opposite sides of a war. Defending him at his hearing. Avoiding him in the halls when Hogwarts reopened. A magical tryst in the snow. A forbidden affair in a library. All the way down to love and now this. A fast-track route to marriage.

She loved him. She really did. And she was prepared to face any backlash that might come out of this. Hermione could name one person off the back who would think her engagement to Draco to be a _horrible_ idea. Harry, on the other hand, would probably take the logical route and point out that she and Draco had only been together for a short amount of time. While true, time meant nothing when you loved someone. Simple. She couldn't imagine herself with anyone else nor did she want to.

Aside from friends, Hermione also thought about the Daily Prophet. They had been decent over the summer and had calmed themselves when it concerned her and Draco. But a pending marriage? They'd come out of the woodworks for this juicy bit of gossip. And then there was that pesky little thought concerning Theo's words at Draco's party back in August. What exactly had he meant? Draco had been livid when she had told him, but before he could even confront the man it appeared that he had already left.

Obstacles were ahead –some harmless, others not so much. But as Hermione looked over at Draco's sleeping form, all of the possible hardships disappeared. Without him her heart would break. It was as simple as that.

"Watching someone sleep is a bit creepy."

Hermione laughed and lifted her hand to run it lightly through his hair. There were very few times when she was allowed to disturb it from its perfectly groomed condition. This and sex were the only moments.

"You watch me when I sleep."

Draco grinned and stared at her with an inquisitive eye. "You've never caught me doing that."

"Or so you think,"

Draco rolled his eyes and pulled her close to him. Merlin knew how many times this small action led to a romp somewhere around the suite. Skin to skin, such warmth, such comfort… Hermione could fall asleep like this. Or, well, do the other thing considering her _fiancé's_ dancing fingers were running along her thigh, around her hip, and up the side of her body just to do the action over again.

"I wish it was Friday so we could do this weekend all over again." Hermione said.

"And replay how I royally destroyed my proposal to you?" Draco chuckled. "I don't think so."

Hermione smiled and buried her face in his neck. He smelled of fresh mint and fruity shampoo –the latter of which was completely her fault.

"I would've said yes no matter how you did it. Simply asking was enough."

"And now you get to plan a wedding for the ages."

"And gain a massive migraine in the process." Hermione playfully groaned. "Ginny's been going mad trying to plan hers."

"Little Miss Red doesn't have my mother." Draco reminded. "With her input you can have anything that you want. Money isn't exactly an obstacle."

Anything that she wanted. It was perhaps in this moment that Hermione actually realized that her boyfriend-turned-fiancé was a wealthy man. She couldn't even begin to comprehend what that meant. What that "anything" entailed. Sure the definition was self-explanatory, but it was one thing to say it, to comprehend it, but to dabble in it? That was on a whole other level. There was only one thing that she knew for sure.

"I would love for us to get married on Christmas." Hermione said. "It had always been my favorite holiday –even more so since we were reacquainted around then. It would be special, I think."

"Christmas…" Draco repeated as he tapped his chin with his finger. "Alright. With my mother's help I'm sure we can pull something together between now and December."

Hermione furrowed her brow. " _This_ December?"

"Yes. I can only speak for myself here, but I don't want to wait a whole year to marry you. Can you wait?"

Hermione smiled broadly. "No."

Draco returned her smile and kissed her gently on the forehead. "This Christmas it is then."

* * *

Draco and Hermione split ways after getting home from Chamonix so they could tell their respective friends and family the good news. However, aside from the fact that it would kill time to break it up this way, the brunette knew good and well that having him with her when she went to see her friends might not turn out in a positive manner. So, she broke the news to a certain over-ecstatic witch first.

"Ginny!" Hermione choked out. "I… _can't breathe._ "

"Oh! Sorry!" Ginny said as she finally let her go. Hermione hadn't even gotten the chance to say hello when she came through the Potter residence's fireplace. The redhead's eyes had immediately gravitated to her hand, she squealed, and then ran over to give her a back-breaking hug.

"Give me your hand." She ordered and took Hermione's hand in hers. "Oh, would you look at that. That ring looks beautiful on you! I told him so!"

"Told him so?" Hermione furrowed her brow. Then her eyes widened in understanding and she smiled broadly. "Why Ginny, did you know that Draco was going to propose to me?"

"Well…I… _might_ have known a little something."

"And you didn't tell me?!"

"And ruin it?! Of course not! If it makes you feel better, I've been badgering Malfoy through letters to propose since he bought the damn thing. I would've hexed him if he didn't do it soon."

Hermione laughed. "Well, technically speaking I kind of forced him to propose. I found the ring in his drawer."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Idiot. Now sit! I've been dying to start planning this wedding with you."

"Funny that you should start mentioning that. We actually already have a date."

"That's great! When? The summer?"

"Actually…Christmas."

"Christmas? You mean _this_ Christmas?"

"I know. It's soon. It's _really_ soon." Hermione told her as she fingered her engagement ring. "Honestly, when I had mentioned it I was thinking about next year. But Draco doesn't want to wait, and you know what, Gin? I don't want to wait either. Is that crazy?"

Ginny smiled and shook her head. "No, it's not crazy at all. In fact I should probably thank you."

"Thank me?"

"That's right. The Daily Prophet has been _all over_ Harry and me for our wedding, but with you and Draco tying the knot, they can finally focus on something else."

Hermione groaned and leaned back in her chair. "Did you have to remind me of that?"

Ginny laughed and patted her on the knee. "You'll be fine. It'll be a wedding for the ages. I can't wait to go."

"Who else is getting married besides us?" Came Harry's voice. Both women turned to find Harry walking into the living room. Ron was next to him and he, too, was waiting for the answer. Ginny looked over at Hermione and gave her a "might as well just do it" expression. Hermione sighed and stood, raising her left hand for them to see.

"I am."

Their jaws dropped simultaneously. It would've been comical were Hermione not anxious to hear their responses.

"Malfoy proposed?" Harry asked although her ring clearly answered his question. "That's… Wow, that's-"

"Has it even been a year for you two yet?" Ron questioned her. Hermione sighed.

"No, it hasn't."

"But it doesn't matter." Ginny inputted from behind Hermione. " _Right, Ron?_ "

"No, Ginny, it's okay." Hermione said. "Ron's entitled to say whatever it is he wants."

"Not in front of us, he isn't. Harry?"

Harry knew that tone of voice anywhere and he gave Ron one last look before heading upstairs with her. Ron continued to stand where he was as did Hermione. What he said when they were definitely out of earshot didn't surprise her in the slightest.

"Marriage is so final, Hermione."

"I know."

"You'll be a Malfoy at the end of it."

"Yes, that _is_ the idea."

"He may be… _alright._ " Ron gritted out, much to her surprise. "But what about his family? They'll be your family too."

"Narcissa's fine with me."

"She's not his only family."

"Everything that you're saying I get, Ron. I do." Hermione pleaded with him. "And if I let it get to me then Draco and I can never be happy. There's always going to someone or something trying to ruin us. I've never given up on anything in my life and I am _not_ going to start now. So just…ignore the potential bad and be happy for me? Please?"

Determined. That's what Hermione Granger was and Ron knew that about her. It wasn't a jealousy thing. Although it still touched a sore spot with him, he just wanted to make sure that his best friend knew what she was doing. As he looked at her, _really_ looked at her, it appeared that she was going to go through with this whether he thought it a good idea or not.

"So…when's the wedding?"

Hermione's face broke out into a huge smile and she ran across the room to hug him. "Oh, Ron, I could kiss you!"

"And have your ex-Deatheater boyfriend kick my arse? I don't think so." Ron chuckled, but he hugged her back just the same.

* * *

It was deep into November. The wedding was officially five weeks away and Hermione and Draco were working to the death with any and every one to pull this weeding off in record time. Ginny was helping Hermione with her side of the guest list while Narcissa was helping with Draco's. The venue had been an easy choice seeing as the mother of the groom was still on house arrest until the summer of the following year. In her spare time (which was honestly very little) Hermione picked out color schemes, flower arrangements, how she wanted the reception to be set up, and other things of the like all from a set of books that Narcissa had owled over.

It had been evident at Draco's Auror celebration that the matriarch loved a good celebration. It seemed now that she loved planning weddings even more. Having money worked _wonders_ Hermione realized, and with everything Narcissa sent for the witch's approval a note of encouragement was sent with it saying to choose whatever she wished and to ignore the cost. But _Merlin_ that cost. Flowers alone were an insane amount of money, but to save her from the headache, Draco had magically blacked it all out so that the price didn't influence her choices. It made her highly self-conscious and in the end it turned out that she had quite the expensive taste.

"You're having sculptures made in France and sent here?" Mrs. Granger said as she drank tea with her daughter. Hermione nodded.

"Narcissa insisted. I wasn't going to go for them at first, but then she showed me photographs of them and I couldn't resist."

"Well, when you told me that Draco's family had money I didn't fathom for a moment that it was on such a large scale."

"You haven't seen their Manor yet." Hermione chuckled. "Trust me. It's on that scale."

"Is that what you'll end up getting for yourselves then? A Manor or something of the like?"

Hermione paused. She hadn't thought of that. Draco had settled so neatly into her modest apartment that she hadn't once entertained the idea that he might want to move. Before she could answer her mother a house elf appeared at her side. Having been in constant communication with Narcissa, she could recognize almost every house elf that the woman owned. This particular house elf's name was Yule.

"Afternoon, Miss Granger. Mistress Malfoy has sent Yule to invite you to Malfoy Manor. There is something set up for you."

"Is there really?" Hermione said in surprise. "Um, well yes, alright. Could you inform her that I'll be bringing my mother with me?"

"Yes, Miss Granger. Of course."

Yule left with a pop and Hermione turned to her mother. "I hope you don't mind."

"No, no, it's fine." Mrs. Granger replied as she stood. "I'll have to meet my daughter's future mother-in-law eventually, won't I?"

 _Yes. Draco's very pureblood mother to meet my very muggle one. Hermione, what on earth have you done?_

It was too late now and there was no turning back. Hermione took hold of her mother and ushered her to the Floo. Apparating would've been easier for sure, but sometimes muggles and apparating didn't mix. Higher chances of splinching. The worst that could happen in a Floo was going to the wrong destination and that was a lot better than losing a limb.

Hermione watched her mother intently when they walked out of the main fireplace in Malfoy Manor. The woman was clearly mesmerized already and all she was seeing was the foyer.

"Oh, Hermione," Mrs. Granger gasped. "This home is lovely."

"Why thank you." Narcissa's voice filtered in. Both Grangers looked up to find her descending the stairs with nothing sort of pure sophistication. Once she had reached the landing Hermione felt her anxiousness levels rise tenfold. She kept looking between her mother –absolutely bubbling with personality because that's just who she was –and Narcissa, who seemed to be biting her tongue to hold back any negative comments. Or at least that was what Hermione was thinking anyway.

"Miss Granger, lovely to see you. And you," Narcissa said charmingly. "You must be her mother. Wonderful to meet you. Narcissa Malfoy,"

"I am. It's a pleasure to meet you as well." Mrs. Granger said as she stretched out her hand to shake. Hermione noted the small bout of hesitance on Narcissa's part, but she stayed proper and took her mother's hand. A brief shake and it was over.

"Yule said that you have something set up for me?" Hermione asked. Narcissa turned to her and smiled brightly.

"Yes. Do follow me."

Narcissa said nothing more except led the way up the stairs she had come down just moments ago. They made a left at the top and down a few doors until they were inside an enormous bedroom. In all honesty it was the size of her entire apartment –possibly bigger. A massive four-poster King-sized bed, bedside tables carved out of what had to be expensive wood, ornate lamps settled on top of them. There was a bureau with a vanity mirror, two dresser drawers, and behind the bed the entire wall was _not_ a wall, but rather a line of ceiling-to-floor windows covered by light cream curtains.

"This will be yours."

Hermione snapped her gaze away from the beautiful furniture and stared at Narcissa. "Mine?"

"Yes, dear. You will need somewhere to sleep the night before your wedding as well as somewhere to dress."

"Oh, Mrs. Malfoy, this is… I don't know what to say."

"Say nothing." Narcissa said happily. "Not until you see the rest."

Mrs. Granger raised a hand to her mouth to stifle yet another gasp of approval. "There's more?"

A bit smug, but Draco's mother replied that yes, there was more, and she proceeded to head to a door behind them which led to a bathroom. Along with the standard sink and toilet, there was a large tub that required three steps up on marble stairs to get into as well as a shower in the corner. After that they left the bathroom, walked across it, and went into yet another room that left Hermione speechless. A room to dress in, Narcissa had said, and apparently she had meant it. There was a pedestal to stand on, a huge mirror in length in width, a large armoire, and something else that was unexpected.

"Ah, Miss Granger," a woman Hermione had only ever seen on the covers of Ginny's magazines greeted her. "My name is Antoinette Marcel. Mrs. Malfoy has hired me to make you the wedding dress of the century."

Hermione almost fell. Instead she faced her fiancé's mother with her mouth agape. "You arranged a fitting for me?"

"Of course," Narcissa replied. "When you're pleased, so is my son. It's a simple conclusion to draw. Antoinette," she addressed. "You're welcome to get started."

Hermione was too lost in the generosity of all of this to linger on the fact that while she was busy getting a wedding dress made, her mother and Narcissa would be left alone to talk. Both women sat down in lush armchairs and watched the fitting from the sidelines.

"Razzle!" Narcissa called. A house elf appeared to her right and bowed.

"Yes, Mistress Malfoy?"

"A pot of tea, Razzle. Two cups, cream, sugar, etcetera…"

"Right away, Mistress Malfoy."

Mrs. Granger watched the scene with fascination and smiled sweetly when the creature was gone. "That was one of those house things, yes?"

Narcissa looked over at her and put on her best face. "A house elf, yes."

"Right. Hermione's told me about them. Such a shame that they can't wear clothes."

Narcissa nearly slid out of her chair for such a comment as that. Care? For a house elf of all things? Instead she kept her poise and was more than happy when Razzle came back with a tray of tea and its essential components, setting on top of a small coffee table in front of them.

"Your home is beautifully decorated."

"Thank you,"

"No, thank _you_ for treating my daughter so well." Mrs. Granger said. "She's…told me about…what's happened in the past."

Narcissa tensed. She reached for the pot and tried her best to pour two cups with as steady a hand as possible. "Did she now?"

"Hermione didn't quite have a choice. She had done some memory erase thing for her father and me during that war. Took herself right out of our thoughts and sent us away. We were owed a detailed explanation for that."

"I… I didn't know she had done that."

Mrs. Granger nodded and accepted the tea from her hand. "She had wanted to protect us. Us being muggles and everything, it's not like we could've protected ourselves very well."

"No, you really couldn't have." Narcissa agreed. "You would've been killed quickly."

"But I would've been happy to give my life for her if it really had come down to it. That's what a mother does. Any parent, really. They would do anything for their children. Don't you agree?"

Narcissa sipped her tea. Here she was, sitting next to a muggle, amicably drinking tea, while watching her pureblood son's muggleborn fiancée get fitted for a gown in her own Manor. Yes, a mother would do anything for her children. This was certain.

* * *

 **Author's note:** A Christmas wedding! And I just love Narcissa and her doting ways :)

-WP


	37. Wedding Dinners

_Hermione_ _ **Malfoy?**_

 _You read right folks! Although the official name change hasn't happened as of yet, word has trickled down to our office that Hermione Granger is_ _ **engaged**_ _to Draco Malfoy._

 _You may remember earlier reports of the pair as the wizarding world gave a simultaneous gasp once news of their relationship had gone public. We were all shocked, downright_ _ **flabbergasted**_ _at the revelation and we all had the same questions. What in Merlin's name was Gryffindor's infamous Hermione Granger, one of the top pioneers in You-Know-Who's downfall, doing with the equally infamous Draco Malfoy, known supporter of the famed villain and confirmed Deatheater._

 _Either their love is strong or there's one powerful Imperius Curse afoot because the odd couple have been reportedly together since January of this year and nothing has slowed them down yet. Since their romance became public, Miss Granger accepted a position as a Senior Magical Researcher at the Ministry of Magic while her_ _ **fiancé**_ _has been an Auror in the Dark Arts Division. Pretty fitting (if we at the Daily Prophet don't say so ourselves!)._

 _So what does the public have to say about this unbelievable union?_

" _A right disaster," says Kasey, a bookshop owner in Diagon Alley. "I wouldn't want to join that family even if my life depended on it."_

 _Others, however, aren't nearly as pessimistic._

" _It's been years," says Liam Groves. "I really doubt he's the same evil guy people think he is. If he was,_ _ **the**_ _Hermione Granger wouldn't be with him in the first place."_

 _Perhaps, perhaps not, Mr. Groves. All we know for sure is that the lovers are headed down the aisle in, not a year, but just_ _ **three weeks!**_ _Sources have determined that the wedding of the ages will be taking place on Christmas day on the Malfoy Manor property and Miss Granger will be getting her dress tailor-made by the one and only Antoinette Marcel (can you believe it?!)._

 _More details to follow…_

 _Written by Priscilla Wimbly_

"What details are they planning to get?" Harry asked. "The Manor's heavily warded, isn't it?"

"Very," Hermione confirmed. "And Uriel's agreed to set up extra wards to keep reporters even further away. So, I imagine their next article will be a bunch of hearsay and them making up scenarios for what my future will be like as the next Mrs. Malfoy."

"The next Mrs. Malfoy… Hermione Malfoy… I've got to tell you, that's the oddest sound I've ever heard."

"Well, I do have to admit that this time last year I didn't think any of this would have happened. But it has and I'm grateful for it."

Harry smiled. "I'm glad, Hermione. But are you grateful for this dinner, though?

Hermione groaned. No, no she wasn't. Mrs. Weasley, the sweet woman that she was, had insisted on having a pre-wedding dinner for her and Draco. Harry and Ginny were having one as well, but not until next month. Seeing as Hermione's wedding was a lot closer, she would have hers first. This meant everyone, sans Narcissa, would be in one location. The Weasleys, her parents, Harry, and Draco. Sure everyone would all be together for the wedding, but in such a confined space like this?

"Hey, I was just teasing." Harry said, clearly reading her expression for what it was. "Besides, if anyone gets out of line Mrs. Weasley will hex us to bits."

Hermione laughed. "Oh, alright. I guess I should go grab Draco. The dinner is going to start soon."

"Right. I'll see you in a bit."

Hermione bid her farewells for the moment and headed back to her apartment. The first thing she heard was the shower running and she smiled as she headed towards the sound. Draco liked his showers to be completely on fire and so when she opened the bathroom door she was hit with nothing but hot air and a lot of steam.

"You're going to scold yourself silly one day."

Draco peaked his head from behind the shower curtain and grinned. "Not if you charm the water so you still feel the heat, but not the scalding."

Hermione's brows rose. "When did you do that?"

"Forever ago, but you hardly make the water that hot to notice it." His smile broadened then before he added, "Do you want to test it out?"

"Draco… You and I both know that if I go in there we're going to be late for Mrs. Weasley's dinner."

"Not if you quit talking and just jump in here."

Hermione rolled her eyes. However, she didn't argue and simply stripped so that she could join him in the shower. He'd been right. The water didn't burn her skin off, but that was the last thing that she was concentrating on as Draco grabbed her and pulled her close.

" _You're_ the one who explains why we're late." Hermione said before succumbing to the feel of one of his hands gravitated to her breasts.

Draco smirked. "Deal."

* * *

"You're late." Ginny said as she passed the fireplace in her parents' home and spotted the recently engaged couple.

"Uh, yeah," Draco stammered. "We were…caught up with something."

Ginny eyed him. He was blushing furiously while Hermione was looking everywhere that wasn't her face. The redhead threw back her head and laughed.

"Right. Well, you're here now so out to the backyard with you."

Ginny led the way with Hermione and Draco trailing behind her. They had to pass through the kitchen in order to make it to where the festivities were happening, and in that very room was the woman who was busy putting the finishing touches on the evening's meal.

"Mum, the guests of honor are here."

Mrs. Weasley turned around, clad in her apron with her wand in one hand and a dish in the other, and wearing a smile on her face. It was in this moment that it occurred to Draco that he'd never really been in such close proximity to the woman before. Her children, yes, but her? She was always this person that he'd heard of, but had never seen. The main thing that he knew about her was that she had been the one to do in his aunt. For that, he was eternally grateful.

"Oh, Hermione dear, it's lovely to see you." Molly said as she gave her a hands-free hug. She then set her eyes on Draco and he felt himself squirm a little under her gaze. "Draco," she said. It startled him, to say the least, seeing as how Hermione had been the only one to use his first name. "It's wonderful to see you too. Good to know that you've been treating out Hermione so well."

"Th-thank you," he managed to say. Molly continued to smile before she gently ushered them out of the kitchen and into the yard where the rest of the bunch were. Draco assessed the situation on first glance.

Harry and his easy-to-tolerate girlfriend were talking to a Weasley that he didn't know. Obviously an older brother –one he'd never had the "luxury" of knowing when he was still in school. There was another one (too many of them, he swore to himself) who also looked older and helping his father adjust the table. There was that veela from the Tri-Wizard Tournament with a little girl who looked just like her clinging onto her leg. Mrs. Granger (who, along with her husband, Hermione had brought to the Burrow earlier that day to assist Mrs. Weasley) looked like she was bored to death as that _annoying_ Percy fellow talked to her. Ron was already stuffing his face with the light snacks on the table and his girlfriend, that Lavender Brown, was doing a terrible thing by encouraging him. George was busy showing off some "death trap," as Hermione would sometimes call his trinkets, to her father before the latter spotted the couple.

It seemed that with his acknowledgement of them that everything stopped. Draco had never felt more watched in his life other than his hearing and his graduation. Luckily, Mr. Granger was a lifesaver.

"Draco!" He said merrily as he left George's side and moved in to hug him. "Good to see you. Have you been catching the American football like I told you?"

Draco smiled. "I did. Do the players always do a funny little dance when they run all the way to the end?"

"Not always. It's frowned upon sometimes, but if you make a good catch, why not celebrate?"

The blond laughed. "Yeah, yeah, I guess so."

"It's time for dinner everyone!" Molly announced as she came out onto the yard. Her wand was swishing various directions as mountains upon mountains of food floated out from the kitchen and onto the massive table that lay in the middle of the yard.

"Merlin…" Draco breathed.

Hermione grinned as he stood mesmerized. She did eventually pull him along so that they could sit at the table. He seemed to be fairing alright with his five-minute exposure of everyone, but for comfortable-ness sake, Hermione made sure that her father was sitting beside him at the enormous table. Harry was sitting next to her and across from them was Ron and Lavender –still _the_ most annoyingly affectionate couple ever in existence.

"Alright everyone," Molly addressed the motley crew. "I know that we're all ready to dig in, but let's not forget the reason that we're here. This gathering of family and friends is to celebrate the recent engagement and pending wedding of our dear Hermione and Draco."

"Mum," George piped up with a mischievous grin on his face. "Are you really calling Malfoy here, 'dear?' His integrity has probably already dropped sitting here with all of us."

Molly placed her hands on hips and flicked her wand once. George laughed, but his voice had been effectively silenced which only made him laugh (silently) a little harder.

"Now, as I was saying. This is a _celebration._ So, is there anything anyone wants to say to the happy couple before we're too full and too tired to say anything at all?"

Mrs. Granger was the first on her feet and she cleared her throat. "I think my husband would agree with me in saying that we adore Draco. He has proven himself to be a wonderful young man and he has treated Hermione with the utmost care. I wish them both the best of luck."

Mrs. Granger sat down and Draco's brow rose as well as a soft smirk when Ginny stood up next.

"Taken from someone who knows Malfoy well enough –by the way none of us will _ever_ call you by your first name-"

"Understood,-"

"-You have evolved into someone who…I never thought I'd hate a _little_ less-"

"Is this a happy speech?" Mr. Granger whispered to Draco so only he could hear. Draco nodded and tried his hardest not to let his smirk turn into a full-blown smile.

"Hermione loves you terribly." Ginny continued. "And I know that you love her too. Regardless of all of that, if you ever hurt her I fully intend on castrating you."

"Ginny!" Molly scolded.

Draco only laughed before directing his words to Ginny. "Oh, loosen your knickers and sit down you cheeky witch."

"Only when you come up with better comebacks." She huffed, however she did sit down. Harry was on the verge of getting up when _Lavender_ of all people beat him to the punch.

"The both of you are _such_ an inspiration." Lavender said. Her words perhaps startled no one more than Ron who stopped mid-chew of a dinner roll to glance up at her. "You two have been through so much and yet here you are! About to get married and it's _so_ _**beautiful!**_ I know that you can make it through and be just as happy as me and my _Won-Won._ "

"Ugh, please," both Hermione and Draco muttered simultaneously as they lifted their glasses. They both looked at each other, smiles on their lips.

"Who do you think will vomit first?" Draco leaned over and whispered. "Me or you?"

"Well, I'm used to this monstrosity." Hermione whispered back. "So, I'll say you."

"Hmm, not much of a bet then. Because I think you're right."

* * *

The dinner went _surprisingly_ well. Small talk was had. Laughs in between. Molly only had to send a Stinging Jinx once and it was directed at George for asking if, as an Auror, Draco had arrested any former Deatheaters yet. Once the dinner was over, Molly and Arthur cleared away any extra food and got rid of the table. Soon after that there was music playing in the air. Hermione had been trying to get Draco to dance for the past ten minutes when he felt a tug on his pants. When he looked down his brows very nearly disappeared as he saw the little girl from earlier.

"Can you dance with me?"

Draco was completely at a loss for words. "Uh, well…"

Hermione giggled. "Of course, he'll dance with you Victoire." She then added to Draco, "She likes to stand on people's feet when she dances with them. Go on."

Draco was ready to protest, but what was he supposed to do when a child (a cute child, despite how much he didn't want to admit it to himself) was staring up at him with wide, happy eyes, and a smile to match.

"Okay. Sure."

Hermione watched as Victoire excitedly took Draco's hand and led him away. She couldn't help but stare in awe with a stomach full of butterflies at the sight of Draco helping Victoire to stand on his feet, hold her hands, and then move gently to the music.

"I'm shocked he's not brooding that his shoes will get scuffed." Came Bill's voice from beside her. Hermione chuckled.

"He's probably brooding about it on the inside, but there's nothing about kids that should sour a person."

"Either that or the Malfoy we all know has gone soft."

"The Malfoy you know has changed drastically." Hermione said as she looked at Bill. "You can't deny that."

Bill sighed and nodded. "I know. Besides," he added as he continued to stare at his daughter dancing with Draco. She was laughing and so was he, and Bill couldn't help but grin. "Victoire's a good judge of character."

* * *

 **Author's note:** Victoire is adorable! And I just love Mr. Granger. "Is this a happy speech?"

Wedding next!

-WP


	38. A Malfoy-Granger Affair

Hermione lay on her bed in the massive suite that Narcissa had given her. It was the night before her wedding and it had been decided that everyone involved in the nuptials would spend the night in Malfoy Manor. That meant aside from Draco, Blaise and Liliana were here as well as Uriel and Lydia. Ginny was her maid of honor, and she had only just left her suite to head to her own bedroom with Harry so that the bride could "get plenty of rest." Her parents were here too seeing as there was no muggle way for them to reach the Manor if they were to come on their own. Bill and Fleur had politely turned down the invitation to spend the night. Angelina was here sans George lest the inappropriate Weasley let something loose around the Manor during the night. On a bright note, Andromeda and Teddy were here and it had warmed Hermione's heart to see her and Narcissa speaking amicably, however slightly strained it was.

Breakfast would be in the morning at 7 a.m. –two _separate_ ones, Narcissa had been precise to say. Hermione would be eating in a dining hall with all the women residing in the Manor and vice versa for Draco and the men. Ginny had offered herself up to do her hair and makeup. The wards around the Manor had been altered so that _only_ those who had sent in a RSVP would be allowed to apparate in for the day right onto the grounds where the wedding would be taking place. Guests would start arriving around 11 a.m. to be greeted and ushered to their seats by house elves.

The area for the ceremony had been decorated beautifully. White bricks had been inlaid on the grass in the shape of a _massive_ heart. All of the seats had been gathered together in the curves of the heart, and Hermione would walk down the aisle on rose-colored bricks to where the halves came to a point. Enormous bouquets of flowers were in vases on top of ornately carved white pedestals that outlined the entire heart. And above? Magic was beautiful because mini chandeliers would be hanging in the air above the guests.

It was going to be a wedding Hermione had never once in a million years she thought she would be having. And yet here she was. She felt like she wanted to cry and well, hell, she might as well do it tonight. There would be no tears tomorrow (Ginny's words) unless she wanted to face the wrath of her makeup artist.

And so, Hermione got her box of tissues ready, but was interrupted when there was a knock on her door.

"Hermione, it's me." Draco's voice sounded. The brunette's eyes widened when she saw the doorknob turn and she quickly brandished her wand to keep it shut and lock the door.

"Are you mad?! You're not supposed to see the bride before the wedding!"

Draco's laugh made it past the expensive wood. She even swore she could _hear_ him smirking. "You do realize that's only a muggle thing, don't you?"

"Oh? Then why has your mother insisted on two different breakfasts then?"

"Because it'll ruin 'the effect' of when I see you walking down the aisle. If it makes you feel better, it's only eleven-fifty-four."

Hermione looked at the clock in her room and yes, it was that time. With a sigh she flicked her wand and the door was finally opened with a cheeky-looking Draco entering her room.

"What would you have done if I had just apparated in here?" Draco asked.

"Made you close your eyes and then throw you out." Hermione said promptly. Draco smiled as he crawled onto the bed with her and pulled her close. She relished in his warmth and the way he nuzzled his nose in her neck. She could fall asleep this way –it wouldn't have been the first time.

"Have you been practicing your Italian for the honeymoon?" Draco questioned her. Hermione grinned and then shook her head.

"I'd rather be taught, thank you very much. We both know how my French lesson went."

Draco chuckled before moving on to nibble on her neck. "And yet you still know nothing."

"Draco…" she said as felt his hand moving down across her thigh.

"Hm?"

"It's eleven-fifty-eight."

Draco pulled back and, believe it or not, he pouted. "Are you serious?"

Hermione laughed and kissed him before pushing him off the bed. "Yes. Out you go."

Draco groaned and rolled his eyes before getting to his feet. "You owe me."

"I know."

* * *

When Draco woke up in the morning he couldn't eat breakfast. He was terrified that he was going to upchuck everything.

"Weren't you nervous, Blaise?"

"Me? No, not at all. I was marrying the love of my life. Why would I be nervous?"

Draco huffed and then turned to Mr. Granger. "How about you?"

"Well, the Missus and I ended up eloping." He chuckled. "Kind of hard to be nervous when you're two giddy young adults."

 _Sweet, but not helpful._

"Uriel?"

"I guess I was a little shaky, yeah. Especially because some of Lydia's more _unsavory_ family members were there so there was a good chance I'd get hexed."

Draco's face paled terribly. He groaned then and grabbed a handful of his hair, tugging it as hard as he could before he let it go and turned to Harry.

"You, Potter. Aren't you nervous? Your wedding is two months away."

"Right now? Not really. But when the day comes I'll probably be just like you." Harry smiled. "Maybe even worse. Feel better?"

" _No._ "

Harry laughed as Draco leaned back in his chair, his breakfast plate still as full as when he had pieced it together while Blaise was having a grand ole time at the scene.

"At the very least try to be as joyous as this little guy." Harry said.

By "this little guy" he meant Teddy who had qualified as a man today and was eating breakfast with the four gents. This was the first time Draco was meeting his little cousin (second cousin, if he wanted to be precise). It had been a first time meeting with his aunt as well. The boy, four years old just like Victoire, was a happy little kid and his hair showed. He was a metamorphmagus like his mother, and his hair tended to change colors depending on his mood. Considering it was bright yellow, so he'd been told, Teddy was ecstatic.

"Come on, Teddy." Harry encouraged. "Tell your cousin Draco that everything's going to be alright."

Teddy looked up from his half-eaten sausage and then grinned. "Everything's o- _kay!_ "

Draco couldn't help it. A kid who sometime last year probably couldn't even talk properly, currently with his cheeks stuffed with food and syrup dripping down his chin, was giving him encouragement with a wide, goofy grin.

"It's official," Draco said. "Kids cure everything."

* * *

"Hermione Granger, if you cry I'll be forced to hex you!"

"But _you're_ crying!"

"I'm different." Ginny sniffed. "My makeup isn't done yet and yours is almost finished. Now, not a single tear woman!"

Hermione took long, deep breaths and sucked in _a lot_ of air in order to keep herself from crying. Honestly it was hard. Last night she'd had a few sniffles, but that was okay. This morning she was greeted by several faces grinning at her like mad and then excitedly pulling her out of bed. Breakfast had been ridiculously elaborate and held in a "small" dining hall a small ways from her suite. Aside from the fact that the breakfast was perhaps the best she'd ever had, the most memorable part about it was hearing Narcissa and Andromeda speak to each other and using shortened versions of their names –Cissy and Andy.

It was back in her suite, however, where Hermione felt her resolve crumble. She had taken a bath with expensive oils and soaps. When she came out, she had stopped dead at her wedding dress. The last time she had seen it had been at a final fitting last week and the finishing touches hadn't even been done yet. Madame Marcel had brought the dress over while she had been in the shower and it was just…beautiful. Simply beautiful. A sweetheart neckline with a corset bodice completely embroidered in tiny pearls. From her hips down it was a lovely soft and light chiffon white fabric that went straight to the floor and left a much too long trail that enhanced just how wonderful the dress really was.

It was enough to make any woman fall into a fit of crying hysterics.

"Done," Ginny announced as she settled her hands to her side sand stepped back. "And your hair is top notch if I don't say so myself. You look amazing, Hermione."

"And you will look even better in your dress." Narcissa said with a small smile. "We mustn't doddle. The ceremony beings in less than an hour."

"Less than an hour…" Hermione repeated to herself. "Alright, okay. Oh! Wait, I need something borrowed, blue-"

"Old and new," Mrs. Granger finished as she held a pair of earrings to her daughter. They were teardrop diamond earrings that Hermione recognized instantly and her heart soared.

"Oh…these were nana's."

"Yes, and you'll make her very happy by wearing them."

"Your something new are the bracelets!" Lydia beamed as she handed over two silver, partially diamond-studded bracelets. Hermione didn't know about her nana's earrings, but these bracelets Narcissa had hand-delivered from a jeweler's. She didn't even want to _imagine_ what these cost.

"Here's the blue." Ginny grinned mischievously. Hermione couldn't help but laugh as she slipped the rather racy blue underwear from her friend's hand. She was also blushing like mad considering that her soon-to-be mother-in-law was within eye-shot.

"Gin, I'm already wearing underwear."

"Then change."

Hermione rolled her eyes and then turned in Narcissa's direction when she gently tapped her on the shoulder.

"Something borrowed,"

Hermione's mouth fell open. So did Andromeda's when she realized what her sister had given her and she smiled broadly.

"Oh, Cissy, that's perfect."

"Yes, I thought so." Narcissa said proudly. "It belonged to our mother. Passed down to daughters who are about to be wed. And not to worry, I've checked it thoroughly for any forms of potential...malicious intent."

Mrs. Granger furrowed her brow. "Malicious intent?"

"A joke, mum." Hermione said quickly. She chuckled nervously before her eyes settled back on the magnificent drop necklace –a multitude of small and semi-large diamonds culminating to a single pendant that, when she put it on, hung just above her neckline.

"Into the dress you go, Hermione!" Angelina ordered. "We've got about a half an hour now. With how big this place is it'll take a millennia to make it outside."

Hermione agreed and headed over to the cherry on top that would put her entire look together.

* * *

 _Thank Merlin for Warming and Repelling Charms…_

It had begun to snow about an hour ago. Uriel, Merlin bless him, had worked hard putting up several charms to block against the impending snow on the grounds as well as the walkway that Hermione and the rest of the wedding party would be walking down.

There was no more than five minutes before the ceremony would begin and Draco was a wreck. He looked out on the guests who had arrived and, quite honestly, he was surprised at the turnout from his side of the family. Hermione's family and friends wouldn't dare to disappoint her. And while Draco was quite sure that his friends, extended family and acquaintances were sorely disappointed, they most likely came because his mother would wreak havoc in their lives otherwise.

Suddenly there was a hush throughout the audience and Draco stood even straighter than usual. His mother stood in the back, orchestrating everything, and gave the okay to a nearby house elf to start the music.

Soft melodies were dancing in the air as Victoire, the little girl who had insisted that she and Draco dance not once, but _three_ times last month, came walking down the aisle. She was tossing out flower petals as she went, smiling like the adorable little thing she was. Teddy walked in after her, carrying rings that floated neatly just above the small pillow he was holding. After him was Blaise and Liliana with her wearing a rose pink, floor-length gown and her husband in a tux to compliment Draco's –a pink tie to match the wedding theme.

"You look more wound up than a toy." Blaise playfully hissed at him once he came to stand beside him. Draco grumbled.

"Yes, well, we've already established you were full of bliss when you got married."

Blaise smiled. Then he leaned over and whispered, "I was so out of sorts that I lost Liliana's ring and spent the last few minutes leading up to the wedding looking for it. How's that?"

Draco chuckled and shook his head at him. "Much better, thank you."

Uriel and Lydia came down the aisle next. After that it was Harry and Angelina. It still made Draco laugh (not to mention take an _enormous_ chunk of his pride away) to have Harry _Potter_ in his wedding. But it was more out of Hermione's wishes than his own, seeing as she had three bridesmaids and each one needed someone to walk down the aisle with. Ginny walked down the aisle alone, and once she had made it to the front, Draco felt his heartrate accelerate. He knew that Hermione was next and, when everyone stood, that's when he was sure.

Draco would've fell to the floor in a puddle if he wasn't so rooted to the spot. That and the fact that Blaise had put his hand behind his back to keep him steady. Hermione was… Beautiful was an insufficient word. There was nothing that he _could_ say.

"Mate," Blaise said to him. "You're not breathing. Suck in some air, will you?"

He hadn't even realized, to be honest. Mr. Granger kissed his daughter on the cheek before shaking Draco's hand and turning to sit down with his wife. Up until this point, the wedding ceremony had been a very muggle one. In a normal wizard ceremony there weren't bridesmaids or maids of honor or anything of the sort, but for Hermione's sake (and to Narcissa's delight that there could be _more_ extravagance to this Malfoy-Granger affair) it was done. Without it, marriage ceremonies tended to be very short with only the vows to be taken.

The vows were reminiscent (and somewhat horrifyingly so) to an Unbreakable Vow, but these were more symbolic than anything else. What made it special was that the vows were written beforehand by the couple in question.

"Thank you all for coming." The marriage official began. "We're all gathered here today to witness the marriage of Mr. Draco Lucius Malfoy to Miss Hermione Granger. Now," he addressed the pair. "If you'll take each other's hands please."

Draco and Hermione smiled at each other as they held each other's hands. Hermione didn't know about Draco, but her heart was beating out of her chest. She didn't know why she was so nervous. What was so hard? Agree to the vows and kiss at the end. And yet here she was about to go completely weak-kneed. At least she was until Draco squeezed her hands and gave her an encouraging nod.

The marriage official raised his wand and a gold shimmery strand wove around their hands, locking them in place.

"We shall now begin the vows. Let it be known that these vows were written by the bride and groom."

Hermione and Draco kept their eyes trained on each other as each vowed was said and a new strand wrapped around their hands.

 _Do you promise to love each other until death?_

 _Do you promise to lift each other up when obstacles come your way?_

 _Do you promise to protect each other?_

 _Do you promise to stay devoted to each other for the rest of your lives?_

"I do." Draco and Hermione said together. They watched as the strands disappeared into their skin and the marriage official lowered his wand.

"The rings, please?"

"Here you go!" Teddy said happily as he raised the small pillow up to Draco.

Draco grinned broadly as he took the one that would belong to Hermione while she took the one that would belong to him. They each held the respective ring in hand and waited for those next set of words.

"Please repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed."

"With this ring, I thee wed."

Hermione almost fumbled putting on Draco's ring because she was too distracted by him slipping on hers. She even almost missed when the official had pronounced them man and wife and given the okay to kiss each other. Draco hadn't, and she found herself being kissed by him and hearing the whoops and hollers from her side of the audience and the slow, disapproving claps from Draco's. Naturally she didn't care about the latter. All that mattered was that she was married. _They were_ _ **married**_. And it didn't matter what anyone thought. It didn't matter what anyone did. She had Draco and he had her and damn it they would fight to keep that.

* * *

"George Weasley, I'm going to murder you!" Hermione grumbled at him as he laughed and hid behind his girlfriend.

"Oh come on," George grinned widely. "You've got to admit that it's pretty funny."

Hermione rolled her eyes and looked to the area of the ballroom where there were several angry Malfoys trying to charm their voices back to their normal pitch. Somehow, some way, George had slipped a potion into their drinks to change their voices to an annoyingly high screech. But, considering that one of said Malfoys was the incredibly rude Uncle Tiberius, Hermione couldn't be _too_ upset with George.

"No more pranks for the evening. Do you promise?"

George smirked. "Not at all. Hugs and kisses, my dear."

Hermione smacked her hand to her head and sighed. Some other mishap was going to happen tonight. She knew it. However, instead of focusing on it she turned to the tap on her shoulder and smiled at Ron.

"I know you're going to say no, but-"

"Yes, we can dance." Hermione cut him off and dragged him onto the dance floor. Ron was pleasantly surprised and took up the customary dancer's position.

"Huh. I thought I would have to fight you a little harder for that one." Ron chuckled. Hermione shrugged and smiled as her eyes caught sight of Draco once again dancing with his favorite three-foot tall child.

"I'm a bit desensitized to dancing at this point. Draco's dragged me out plenty."

"Oh, I bet. You'll be getting dragged out plenty more. You're a _Malfoy_ now. Queen of the social elite. Future mother to the Malfoy heir."

"Wow, Ron, you seem _really_ excited for me." Hermione smirked as he gave her a little twirl.

"I'm not jealous."

"Never said you were."

"It's just…unreal. That's all." Ron said as he took a moment to look around them. The mixed company. The massive ballroom they were in. The rings on his best friend's finger that he wouldn't have been able to afford in his lifetime. "I never thought we would end up here."

"Neither did I." Hermione replied. "Just last year I had started my redo Year at Hogwarts. And now I'm married to someone who once hated me. Life is…"

"Weird,"

"Unpredictable,"

"I think I like my word better." Ron grinned. He grinned even more when Hermione laughed, but he soon became distracted when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder.

"May I dance with my wife, please?" Draco asked. Ron could do nothing but nod and concede and he let Hermione go so that she could fall into her _husband's_ arms and dance around the room.

As he watched, he had determined to stick with his position.

It was bloody weird.

* * *

 **Author's note:** WEDDINGS! I kind of like the idea of those bricks. I might have to keep that in mind for myself if I can ever afford it lol. So many parts of this I liked. Can't pick a favorite. Although, Teddy was sweet :).

So! We've gone from distant students to married and 38 chapters. I honestly can't believe all of this came out of a one-shot! Now, I'm not saying that the story is over just yet because there's still a few major moments that I want to write out. I will, however, be cutting out chunks of time after maybe a chapter or two. As much as I would like to _detail_ every moment of their lives, it's not practical and would end up being pure filler.

Until next time!

-WP

Replies to Guests

 **Guest:** Yey! Glad that you liked it! Hope this one made it to your expectations too :D

 **Karlie:** Weren't they adorable?! If I can swing it, maybe I'll throw some more of them together :)


	39. Back to Reality

Draco and Hermione spent the rest of December and bringing in the New Year in Italy. After the wedding they had taken a portkey straight to their hotel to avoid the media frenzy that was waiting for them outside the Manor. The hotel had been recommended by Blaise and was in a remote little area where they could celebrate in peace.

And what peace it was…

It was odd, honestly, to be somewhere people didn't know who they were. There wasn't a single gasp of recognition, a heated glare, or a camera flash in their direction. They were free to do whatever they wanted without being scrutinized for being together.

It was lovely. So much so that they had even played with the idea of following in Blaise's footsteps and moving there. But alas, too many friends and family they'd be leaving behind if they did. Well, for Hermione anyway. Draco would only be leaving Blaise (who'd kill him after _he'd_ already moved) and his mother whose house arrest would be over, thus giving her the mobility to come along if she wanted.

They decided to save the thought for a later time and instead came back home laden with their luggage as well as every trinket they had seen fit to buy. Hermione stared at it all piled on her – _their_ living room floor and began to wonder where they were going to put it all.

"Have you thought about moving, Draco?"

Draco took a moment to look around and shrugged. "Not really, no. Do you want to? If so, I'm sure we could find something and buy it before the end of next week."

"Next week?" Hermione repeated with her brows raised. "Do you really we could do that so soon?"

Draco laughed and pulled her close to kiss her on the forehead. "That's what happens when you have money at your disposal. You're a wealthy woman now. Act like it!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. That particular bit he'd been saying to her throughout the entire honeymoon. Every time she had seen something she liked, she had immediately stepped away from it once the price had come into view. Eventually Draco would simply leave her side for a few minutes and come back with items already bought and in bags. The more he kept this spending up, the more obvious it was to Hermione how deluded she'd been about his net worth.

"I'll go put all of this away." Draco gestured to everything on the floor. "And then," he added mischievously. "Our honeymoon continues."

Hermione felt herself blush as she crossed her arms over chest. "What? The past week and few days weren't enough for you?"

"Absolutely not,"

Hermione laughed. She was _not_ about to argue with the man –especially seeing as they would both be back to work come Monday morning. For the first time in her life she _didn't_ want to work. She would rather stay in this euphoria of being married instead of slipping back into the average routine and the chaos that often liked to follow them.

It was perhaps then an unwise decision to head into her personal owlery (less impressive as it sounded, as it was just a wide closet with a single open window she had magically accommodated for her use) to see what they had missed out this past week.

As expected there was a pile of Daily Prophet papers and on each front page were photographs of her and Draco (none from their wedding day) and scraps of writing about what they had heard was at the nuptials and other such things of the like. There was also (happily) letters of congratulations and gifts scattered around the room. Despite how many there were, Hermione was particularly drawn to, judging by its shape, what she assumed was a painting.

On the wrapping itself there was a note:

 _Sorry for missing the festivities._

 _I owe you one._

 _-Theo N._

Truth be told, Hermione had cared less that Theo hadn't been at the wedding. Ever since Blaise's warning at the party Narcissa had thrown for Draco, she had felt quite wary about being around him. Again, if she was being true to herself, she would've taken one look at the wedding gift from the man and set it ablaze. And yet, that wasn't something that she had wanted to do. On the contrary, she felt intent on opening it to see it more closely.

So she did.

She ripped off the wrapping and came face to face with a painting that bordered on beautiful in a confused type of way. New art. But that wasn't what drew her to it most. Its frame was intricate and ornate. Old and very well polished. She touched it with both hands, felt a jolt, and then felt dizzy immediately after.

"Hermione," came Draco's merry voice. "Don't tell me that you're seriously going through the-"

Draco stopped dead. He knew something was wrong the moment he had stepped into the room. The feeling of something dark and unwelcoming was lingering in the air and, having worked with dark artefacts solidly for the past five months, the feeling hit him hard.

He looked over at Hermione who was seconds away from hitting the floor before he rushed over and grabbed her.

"Hermione!" Draco shouted at her. He shook her arm, hit her face, anything to get a response from her.

But nothing.

Draco picked her up and disapparated on the spot straight to St. Mungo's where he screamed out for anyone's attention. This was _exactly_ what he needed, wasn't it? Draco Malfoy, carrying an unconscious Hermione Granger in his arms. He'd been floating on clouds for days – _months_ even, and now this. He could already feel the gazes and hear the questions brewing in every onlooker's mind.

 _What has he done to her?_

 _Definitely big mistake._

 _He's going to Azkaban for sure now._

Draco pushed aside everything once a Healer with a stretcher finally came into view and put into perspective one very clear thing: one of those cursed objects had made its way to Hermione. And he had a feeling that their marriage was a big reason why.

* * *

Draco had been sitting outside Hermione's room for hours. He didn't even know for how long anymore. What he did know was that Ginny was here as well as her brother. And Blaise and Liliana. And Uriel sans Lydia as she was currently working an undercover case she couldn't leave.

"Draco," Blaise nudged him. The blond looked up and then stood when he saw Hermione's Healer come out of her room.

"How is she?"

"Well, the good news is that whatever she touched did less damage than the other victims of these cursed objects." The Healer said. "Perhaps the curse wasn't as strong or maybe she didn't hold it long enough to take in enough of the curse. A DA Division Auror would have to decide that."

 _Oh, I intend to…_

"...And the bad news?" Draco asked thickly.

The Healer sighed. "Although there's less damage, there still _is_ damage. It'll be hard to fully assess everything until she wakes up, but-"

"What have you assessed already?"

"Mr. Malfoy-"

" _What_ did you assess _already?_ "

Draco narrowed his eyes at the man when he saw the Healer hesitate. Another sigh on his part and he finally laid it all out.

"Her heart is weak as well as her lungs. She also...spasmed quite a bit while we were in there."

Draco closed his eyes. He had flinched at the word "spasm" and his memories immediately brought him back to his Manor and Bellatrix and what she'd done. He'd been standing so still and so quiet that he had almost lost touch with where he was. It was...peaceful that way actually. Not to be in reality for a moment and come to terms that his life had just gotten Crucio-ed.

"When can he see her?" Blaise asked from his side. Good ole Blaise, always stepping in for him when he was a mess.

"We're just wrapping up in there, so he'll be able to see her in just a moment."

"Do you hear that, Draco?" Blaise said to him. "You'll be able to see her soon."

Blaise's words had been drowned out when he heard a pair of footsteps. He didn't have to know who it was that was coming, and Draco straightaway went up to Harry to get his desperate answers.

"What do you know?"

Harry stepped back in surprise, but then frowned soon after. "Malfoy, I don't think-"

"Don't baby me, Potter." Draco snapped. "You and a hell-load of Aurors have been at my apartment for hours. You must know something, so out with it."

Harry knew that Draco was going to bombard him with questions (and probably hex him) if he didn't comply with his demands. However, he didn't want to do this with an audience.

Harry lifted his glasses a little and rubbed the bridge of his nose before turning to Ginny and Ron. "We're all probably going to be here for a while. Maybe you should head to the cafe lounge downstairs and get something to eat?"

Ginny and Ron exchanged looks before nodding.

"Coming guys?" Ginny encouraged the others. Blaise, Liliana, and Uriel bitterly agreed and passed on their unvoiced sympathies to Draco as they followed the two redheads out of earshot.

"It was a painting." Harry explained to Draco. "Well, the frame, specifically. When Hermione touched it…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what happened when she touched it." Draco said solemnly as he ran his tired hands over his face.

"There's… There's something else too. There was a note on the painting's wrapping."

Draco noticed Harry's shift in demeanor and prepared himself for what he was about to hear. "And?"

"Before I tell you, you have to _promise_ not to go crazy."

"Potter," Draco said as calmly as he could. "My wife is laid up in a hospital. I'm going to go off no matter what you tell me. So just-"

"The painting came from Nott."

 _The painting came from Nott._

 _The painting...came..._ _ **from Nott.**_

Draco's jaw clenched and his eyes turned to murderous slits at the mention of his name. "Theo did this? _Theodore Nott_ did this to Hermione?"

Harry took a deep breath, his wand tucked in his sleeve but ready to be used in case Draco became uncontrollable.

"Yes. Now, before you go and do something rash-"

"Rash?" Draco repeated with venom in his voice. "Oh, trust me, nothing I do concerning Theo will be _rash_. It'll be calm and calculated and won't leave a single trace."

Harry's eyes widened. "Malfoy. You can't do anything. Do you hear me? You can't."

"Why the hell not?!" He shouted at him. "Look at what he did to Hermione! _My wife!_ You expect me to sit back and do nothing?"

"That's _exactly_ what I expect you do to!" Harry shouted back before he took out his wand and cast a Silencing Charm around them. "You're an Auror, or did you forget? You can't go taking the law into your own hands. And don't forget that Hermione was my friend _long_ before she was your wife. I'm upset just as much as you. If… If it makes you feel any better I'm the lead on the case. I _will_ find Nott. I swear to you on that."

Draco still looked like he wanted to spit fire, but instead he let out an aggravated breath and conceded with a nod. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and then ducked a little when an owl flew over his head. It dropped a letter between them with Draco's name on the front before it continued off.

"Great," Draco said as he bent over to pick it up. "I wonder what fresh hell is this."

He ripped open the envelope in a messy fashion and then read its contents. Harry watched as the blond's eyes stretched. Then they narrowed. Then his lips turned into a snarl. After a moment he closed his eyes and took deep, controlled breaths. Harry was sure the man in front of him would explode, but it didn't happen. Instead he did something else that completely baffled him.

Draco laughed.

It started out as a small chuckle and then it turned into insane laughter. Harry was worried.

"Malfoy," he said tentatively. "What is it?"

Draco didn't say anything. He continued to let his laughter go on until it died to a low rumble in his throat as he handed the letter over for Harry to read.

"Read it out loud." Draco said, an incongruent mirth in his voice. "I want to _hear_ it."

With a wary eye Harry did as he was instructed. "'Dear Mr. Malfoy, in light of the recent events concerning Hermione Malfoy, née Granger and your known association with one Theodore Nott –a suspect in the Malfoy case –you are hereby... _suspended until further notice?_ '"

Harry looked up from the letter and found Draco's jubilant expression staring back at him. "Malfoy, Auror Warren can't do this. He can't just-"

"I don't care."

Harry furrowed his brow. "You..? You what?"

"I said that I don't care."

"But you love being an Auror."

Draco nodded. "I do, but I love Hermione more." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "And hey, look at it this way. Not being an active Auror means that I can hunt down Theo and gut him without any consequences. A lose-win situation if you ask me."

Harry felt his insides squirm at that. Draco had said it so calmly, so nonchalantly that it made his skin crawl. If Draco had noticed Harry's discomfort then he didn't let on. Instead he turned his attention to Hermione's Healer who had just come out and said that he could see her now.

Harry watched him leave. In his opinion, the state of Theo's health was in _much_ more danger than Hermione's at the moment. He frowned and then brought his attention back to the letter he held in his hand. He had been astounded at first when he had read it. But now that he remembered its contents and what this meant, he was angry.

Harry left St. Mungo's without a word to anyone and headed straight to the Ministry after a quick pit-stop at home. People said hello to him as he went, but he didn't pay them any attention. He had an agenda on his mind and the moment he got to Auror Warren's office he barked out an order that made the older man look up from his work with a bemused expression on his face.

"Unsuspend him."

"I'm sorry?"

"You heard me." Harry said with anger in his voice. "Unsuspend Malfoy. You know good and well that he wouldn't do anything to hurt his own wife."

"Oh, you're talking about him." Auror Warren replied in a bored tone. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Let me assure you that I know no such thing. For all I know Malfoy and the missus could've had an argument and he sent that painting to punish her."

"If that's the case then you would've arrested him, not suspended him." Harry argued. "And certainly not through a letter and not without talking to him first. Own up to the fact that you did this out of spite, Quintin."

"I'm not admitting anything, but let's say for a moment that I did. So what? He doesn't deserve to be here."

"That's not up to you to decide!"

"I'm Auror Head!"

"And a piss poor one at that!" Harry shouted at him.

Auror Warren gasped in outrage. " _How dare you!_ "

"No, how dare _you._ You can't let personal feelings get in the way of your job! Malfoy's a good Auror, and you know it. And I know several people –myself included –who would swear before the Wizengamot that he would _never_ do anything to hurt Hermione."

"Swear all you like, but I'm going to make sure that Malfoy stays gone. He's tainted my Department long enough. Now, if you don't mind seeing yourself out, I have work to finish."

Harry was red in the face, but he complied anyway. He left Auror Warren's office and slammed the door behind him. He didn't leave the Ministry though. Instead he went straight to Kingsley's office and put in front of him one of the few muggle devices that didn't go haywire around magic: a tape recorder.

Harry smiled broadly as he watched Kingsley's face contort in controlled rage and disappointment.

* * *

 **Author's note:** And…the honeymoon is over… Draco and Hermione were having some pretty good days. The shoe was bound to drop sometime and boy did it ever. BUT good news comes in the form of Harry! Bye bye Auror Warren.

-WP

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 **Guest:** Thank you! Glad that you liked it :D


	40. Embracing Old Habits

When Hermione woke up she knew that she wasn't in her bed. It was far less comfortable, much too small, and most importantly, Draco wasn't in it. She opened her eyes slowly, having to close them almost immediately because of how bright it was in the room. She tried raising her hands to cover her eyes, but they felt...weak. Weak as though she hadn't moved them in days.

She groaned.

"Hermione?"

That voice alone made Hermione open her eyes again. This time she turned her gaze in the direction Draco's voice came from and she found him. What confused her was why they weren't at home.

"Where are we?"

"St. Mungo's."

Hermione scrunched her brows in confusion. "St. Mungo's? Why? What happened?"

Draco took one of her hands and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Do you remember our honeymoon?"

Hermione smiled. "Of course. I could never forget that."

Draco took a deep sigh of relief at that. Healers had been worried about possible memory loss. If that had been her case then he honestly didn't know what he would do.

"What about after we got home?"

"Um… Well, you went off to put our things away. And I… I'm not sure what I did."

"You went into the owlery." Draco helped. "You started sorting through mail."

Did she? She supposed that was something she would do. She couldn't remember it, but she could at the very least imagine. She probably went in and sorted through a few things. Smiling at some, rolling her eyes at others –stupid reporters. Suddenly she gasped and stared at Draco with wide eyes.

"The painting! There was a painting!"

"Yes, there was." He nodded. "It was the frame, Hermione. The frame was cursed. You've been in here for four days."

Her mouth dropped. " _Four days?_ "

"Four very long days, yes." Draco replied in a solemn voice. That's when Hermione truly noticed him. How tired he looked. How worn and...well…quite reminiscent of when she had seen him again at Hogwarts.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm so-"

"No." Hermione said sternly. "Don't you dare do that. _Don't_. You are not responsible for what other people do whether it's to me or to someone else."

"But-"

" _No,_ I said. You've come so far, Draco. I remember how broken you were. How... _defeated_ you used to be. Don't let this one instance bring you back there."

Draco scoffed. "This 'one instance' isn't some little thing. How would you feel, Hermione, if it was me laying there?"

Hermione frowned at once.

"Exactly. You...you could've died. By all rights you should have. All other victims of cursed objects have died. Some right away and others over time."

"But I'm fine, see?" She said as she put a hand on his cheek. "Look at me. I'm okay. Although, it does beg the question as to why."

Draco closed his eyes and relished in her touch. Four days of unresponsiveness as he held her hands had been torturous.

"Don't go questioning good things, Hermione."

"I'm not questioning anything. Besides, the Auror in you will be jumping out at what I'm thinking of."

He squirmed on the inside at the word "Auror." Although Harry had done brilliantly (it was such a Slytherin thing to do, Draco couldn't help but be proud), Auror Warren still had to undergo a review with the Wizengamot before being officially sacked – _if_ he got sacked at all. That meant he was technically still Auror Head, although he couldn't work, and that Draco was still suspended.

"If the proven track record of these victims are coma and death, then why am I still alive? What makes me so different?"

"I don't know. But I plan on finding out one way or another."

Hermione smiled at him. "I'll have to thank Auror Juno when I see her. I wouldn't think she'd let you on the case with the victim being me and all."

Draco kept his guilt from rising up to his face. To further help his cause he got up to get her Healer and let him know that she was awake so he could do a final round of assessments. He took the time to send an owl to her family and friends as well as his and his mother. Harry was the first one to arrive, but Draco wasn't surprised. St. Mungo's had been the one to contact him since he was the one working her case. Now that she was awake he would finally be able to ask her pertinent questions. However, most of those questions had been directed at _him_ the day after her admittance.

Theo was a private person. Take in account all the work he did that required copious amounts of travel, it was hard to pin him down much less to get information on him. Draco was the Ministry's best bet in finding Theo, however, the blond hadn't been very cooperative. Not that they knew it. He had gotten lucky in the fact that Harry hadn't been the one to question him. It had been advised that he didn't seeing as he knew him and might ask leading questions or ones that didn't probe enough. It smelled of Auror Warren even though his hands weren't directly in this, but Draco was thankful regardless. He was able to easily navigate their inquiry by providing false help while keeping himself off their radar.

Well, off of _the Ministry's_ radar. Harry, he was quite sure, didn't trust him not to do something lethal. And he was right. That's why Draco had yet to do anything to Theo –whose precise location he already knew after meticulous research. He had wanted to wait until everyone ( _especially_ Harry) would be distracted enough to not realize he was missing or concerned enough to go after him. Having Hermione awake after a four-day sleep was certainly distraction enough.

"I'm going to get a few things of hers from home." Draco said to Ginny. "Let Hermione know if she asks, will you?"

"Of course."

He walked off innocently, although his intentions were far from it.

* * *

"I'm sorry that my visit is more of a professional one." Harry frowned as he sat at Hermione's bedside. She shook her head at him and patted his hand.

"It's alright." She encouraged him. "You know I hold professionalism in high regard. So, ask what you need to."

"Okay," he took out a notepad and muggle pen for ease and got started. "Did anything seem strange to you when you got home?"

"No, nothing."

"What about when you went into your owlery? Malfoy said that the room felt off the moment he walked in there."

"Not surprised," Hermione surmised. "He's been working with dark objects for months now. He should be the first one to know when something's wrong where they're concerned. But me? The room was fine. Although…"

Harry picked up on her hesitance. "Although what?"

"The painting. I knew it was from Nott and under normal circumstances I wouldn't have opened it. He's not very likeable, so why would I? But I… I couldn't help it."

"What do you mean you couldn't help it?"

"Just as I said." Hermione shrugged. "Something about it drew me in. I _wanted_ to open it. To touch it. Honestly, Harry, I wouldn't have done it otherwise."

"Huh. Sounds like an open bottle of Amortentia to me."

Hermione's face lit up at that. "With its impulsive characteristics I'd say so too. Very astute of you, Harry!"

Harry chuckled as his face reddened. "I tend to have my moments. I'll let the researcher working on this know as well as the DA Auror."

"Oh, is someone else on my case too?"

Harry's brows furrowed. "Someone else?"

"Yeah, you said _the_ DA Auror instead of just Draco."

Harry kept his face as neutral as possible. "Right, yeah. Travers. He's on it too."

Hermione crinkled her face. "Had to be him, did it? I suppose I should keep my judgements to myself. Despite who he is as a person I hear he's good at his job so…"

"He is, I promise. So, I'm going to go and give them this information, alright?" Harry said as he stood. "I'll be back as soon as Auror duties are over."

Hermione grinned. "Auror duties are never over. But I appreciate it nonetheless."

Harry gave her a quick hug as a final farewell and left her room as calmly as possible. Contrary to his outward demeanor his mind was racing. Did Draco intentionally tell Hermione that he was on her case? Did she come to that conclusion on her own? If it was the latter, why didn't he correct her? If the former, why would he lie? It didn't sit well with him and neither did the fact that he couldn't find Draco.

"Have you seen Draco?" Blaise asked him. "Just got in and figured I'd see him, but he's not here."

"Oh, he should be here soon." Ginny said as she approached them. "He told me that he was heading home to grab a few things for Hermione. He's been gone a while so I suspect-"

"I'm heading to the Ministry." Harry said curtly. "I'll be back as soon as I'm done."

Ginny and Blaise were caught off guard by his abruptness, but Harry couldn't deal with them right now. Instead, he needed to quickly to do a Location Tracker on Draco's wand (illegal in most cases as it was a breach of privacy) in order to find him.

* * *

Draco had never been capable of murder. The mere thought of it tore at his conscience. It always had.

Until now.

Now he felt ready. Knowing that Theo –someone who was supposed to be his friend –had put his wife in the hospital and that she could've died, had sparked something in Draco that he thought had died long ago. It was a darkness that he thought he'd never see again, but one that he welcomed just for a moment. Long enough to give him a satisfaction that would let him sleep peacefully at night.

He was waiting in a dingy back alley. Theo was in a pub, but Draco couldn't afford to wait until he was finished getting drunk. Not if he wanted to get back to the hospital before anyone started to go looking for him.

And then that's when he smiled as the backdoor opened and out walked Theo arm-in-arm with a pretty witch that Draco knew would tickle his fancy. Once the door was closed and they were further enough away, he stepped out of the shadows.

Theo tilted his head to one side. "Draco?"

Draco said nothing. He flicked his wand once which tossed Theo into the brick wall next to him. He then raised his wand to the witch who was at his attention in a blink of an eye.

"You can go home." Draco ordered. "And then you can go to bed."

The witch immediately walked her way out of the alley. Draco hadn't cast that curse in years, but he was still happy to know that he was efficient at it. The blond turned his eyes on Theo who had stared at the exchange with a horrified expression.

"Draco… What are you doing?"

"Be quiet." He snapped before flicking his wand again. Theo was up from the floor and up against the wall –a Sticking Charm keeping him rooted. "Did you really think that you could try to kill my wife and get away with it? Have you lost your mind?"

"Kill your wife?" Theo repeated as he tried to struggle against the charm. "Draco, I didn't-"

" _I said be quiet!_ "

Draco hit him with a non-verbal Silencing Charm. Although it would give him great joy to hear his screams, they were still in an alley and he didn't want to risk too much damage here. Just as he was about to give his wand some exercise, a voice he didn't expect broke the air.

"Malfoy, step away from him." Harry said. Draco didn't turn around, but he rolled his eyes anyway.

"Potter," he replied with annoyance lacing his tone. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"Well, if you dusted off your specs, you'd clearly see what I'm doing."

Harry scoffed. "Back to the old ways then, are we?"

Draco sneered, his gaze still trained on Theo. "What old ways?"

"You insulting me. You…" Harry glanced at Theo, clearly terrified, and sighed. "Hurting people."

"I haven't hurt him." Draco contradicted. " _Yet._ "

"Malfoy, listen to me." Harry said as he slowly approached. "Don't do something that you're going to regret."

"Regret?" Draco asked. He even laughed a little. "Trust me, Potter, I wouldn't regret this."

" _Yes,_ you would. Because you'd be arrested and convicted if you do. Do you get that? That means _Azkaban_ , Malfoy. There'd be no talking on your behalf to get you off like last time. No more chances. No more future. No more Hermione."

Draco tensed at the mention of Hermione. Harry thought that to be a good sign and decided to continue.

"She thinks you've changed. But this? This _clearly_ shows that you haven't. That somewhere underneath that fake façade of remorse you're still a dangerous Deatheater who should have gone to Azkaban."

Draco quickly whipped around with his wand raised. "That's not true."

"Take a good look at yourself and say that." Harry challenged. "Because it's _exactly_ how you look right now. And it's exactly what everyone will think –including Hermione. You may not give a damn about everyone else, but I know that what she thinks about you means a great deal. Don't let this change her mind about you."

Draco tightened the grip on his wand as his heartrate accelerated. He was doing this _for_ Hermione, but…she would hate this, wouldn't she? She would hate _him_. His mind went over to their earlier conversation and he frowned deeply. _You've come so far, Draco._ Considering the current circumstances, had he?

Draco had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't even realized that Harry had walked over and lowered his wand arm.

"I'll take him in."

"Okay,"

"And as far as we're both concerned, you were never here. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Good." Harry patted his shoulder. "Now, go on. Get out of here. And don't forget to get those things for Hermione like you said you would."

Draco robotically nodded and prepared to disapparate. Before he did he could hear Harry muttering a Memory Charm –anything to make sure that "never here" bit held true.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Draco…was angry, but that might be an understatement. If Theo wasn't Obliviated he would have to thank Harry a million times over.

-WP

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 **Guest:** Yup, quite. He would make Salazar proud :)

 **KangBoRam:** About time right!? Well, according to this chapter he'll be on his way soon. Hopefully.


	41. Child-Friendly

If Harry wasn't going to tell anyone about what Draco was going to do to Theo, then he wasn't going to either. What he _did_ tell Hermione the next day, however, was that, currently, he wasn't an active Auror anymore. He had told his wife everything that the letter from Auror Warren had said, what Harry had done, and that after all proceedings were over and done with he'd see if his future in the Auror Department was still a possibility.

Naturally, Hermione was angry beyond belief.

"That _arse!_ " She exclaimed. Draco smirked at her use of such light profanity when he knew that she wanted to say something much worse. "I hope Quintin gets what's coming to him. He's completely unfit to be Auror Head. Maybe now Harry will take the job."

"Potter had gotten offered the Auror Head position?" Draco asked with a quirked brow. "And he turned it _down?_ "

Hermione shrugged. "He didn't want it just because he defeated You-Know-Who. He wanted to earn it."

Draco snorted. "A righteous Gryffindor if I ever saw one."

Hermione smiled and then turned her attention to the door of her hospital room to welcome said Gryffindor. "Hi Harry."

"Hey," he greeted as he shut the door behind him. "Did I come at a bad time?"

"Not if you've brought good news you haven't." Draco answered. "Did you?"

"Yes and no." Harry replied and sat down. "We interrogated Nott for hours last night and…we have reason to believe that he might have been Imperiused to give that painting to Hermione."

Draco placed a hand under his chin. "Your reason being?"

"Aside from being stupid enough to sign his name on the wrapping? The gaps in his memory don't make sense –Veritaserum or not. We even pulled his memories and put them in a pensieve and they're just as incoherent as his narrative was."

"Ah, I get it. So you've got the means by which Hermione was attacked, but not the actual person that planned it."

"Exactly,"

Draco sighed and ran his tired hands over his face. "Theo's connected to some pretty shady people. It could be anyone he knows, honestly."

" _Great,_ " Hermione exaggerated from where she lay. "So that means that I'm probably still in danger then."

"Probably," Harry frowned. "I'm really sorry, Hermione."

"No, no it's fine. Draco and I will just have to ward the apartment."

"It's already warded." Draco reminded her. "And there's only so many that are legally allowed when you live in a neighborhood that's primarily muggle."

"Sounds like you two might want to think about moving." Harry pointed out. "At least until we've weeded out who was trying to hurt you."

Draco and Hermione exchanged glances before the former gave a resigned shoulder shrug. "Looks like I'm hunting for houses after all."

"Oh, Draco I don't want you to do that without me." Hermione brooded. "I'm getting released in a few days or less once the Healers say it's okay. We can go look then."

"Don't forget the _bed rest_ they told you to be on the moment you got out of here."

"But-"

"No buts,"

Hermione pouted before turning to Harry who immediately shook his head.

"There are very few times I actually agree with Malfoy, Hermione." Harry told her. "You need to rest."

Draco was amused at his wife's childlike behavior and made sure to enjoy it for the next few minutes as she and Harry continued to talk before bringing up a suggestion that he was sure she might not like.

"Until your bed rest is over…how about…we stay at Malfoy Manor."

Harry's expression could be classified as horrified. Hermione's was a mixture of that as well as uncertainty.

"Or with Blaise?" Draco suggested. "His place is certainly big enough-"

"No, Liliana's pregnant. I don't want to impose on her." Hermione replied as she fiddled with her hands. "I… _suppose_ …the Manor wouldn't be _too_ bad. Besides, I'll be on bed rest and not have to walk around anyway. Right?"

Draco nodded. Hermione bit her bottom lip hard enough for it to bleed and she licked the blood away.

"Okay. We can stay until my bed rest is over."

"I'll have my mother arrange us a suite."

* * *

Hermione had stayed in the hospital for two more days before Flooing alongside her husband to Malfoy Manor. The last two times she had been here were both festive occasions. The first was to congratulate Draco on his Auror position and the next was for her wedding. Festivities had a way of drawing out the best in you while distracting yourself from everything that made you upset. Coming here now, without a proper reason (although her recent attack was proper enough), was just...different. The Manor itself wasn't dark and dank, however it lost the frivolity it once had. It was quiet, not to mention it felt empty.

"I can never imagine a child living here."

Draco glanced at her as he helped her up the grand staircase. "Why's that?"

"It's just so big. Like you could get lost in here by taking one turn."

"You can." He replied once they made it to the landing. "If you don't know it, this place is quite the labyrinth."

"Designed on purpose?" Hermione asked with a slight tilt of her head.

"In a way, yes. It's a combination of excessive grandeur and also to confuse anyone who dared to snoop. My family has never been of the trusting sort."

Hermione didn't verbally reply, but she did agree. Draco had made a left at the stairs and she was met with the same vast hallway she had been in the night before her wedding. They didn't stop along here though. Instead they walked its entire length and then made a right. This hallway was a little shorter than the one they'd just come from, but still long enough for her to feel winded. Draco had offered to carry her, but that thing called pride shouted at her from the rooftops and she declared that she was fine.

There was nothing down this hallway with the exception of one door at the end of it. Once they got to it, a smug smile was on Draco's face as he opened the door. Hermione, completely forgetting that she was supposed to be taking it easy, ran inside.

The door had opened straight into a living room complete with a massive fireplace. To her left was a small hall that, upon her inspection held not one, but _three_ bedrooms -one of them a master bedroom with a private bathroom. When she came back out Draco was standing in the middle of the room, his arms crossed, and his smile much too wide for his face to carry.

"Draco, this is… This is…"

"It's a family suite." He explained. "Newly married Malfoys tend to stay in these. And despite having house elves to tend to children, they still saw fit to have them within close range. Hence the multiple bedrooms. Down this other hall," he pointed behind him (Hermione hadn't even noticed there was another one), "there's a playroom for kids and a study complete with a library."

"A library?" Hermione's eyes lit up.

"I thought you might like that. However, _you_ are going to bed."

Hermione fretfully crossed her arms. "You know, just because it's termed _bed_ rest, I don't have to be in a bed."

"While that is true, for this first day can you humor your husband?"

She grinned at that, the word "husband" falling so naturally off his lips. With a sigh she relented and trotted off to the master bedroom where she allowed him to tuck her in. She had asked for tea once settled and proceeded to frown bitterly when Draco had a house elf bring it. It only made him laugh.

"The Manor is wrought with house elves, Hermione. Not to mention now that we're married, they do anything you ask them to."

"I won't be asking them for a single thing." She said with a firm nod.

"For today, maybe. Give it a week, and I bet you'll call them more than me."

Hermione would rather pitch herself off a tower before succumbing to that and she told him so. Draco made a mental note to ward all towers the Manor had to offer before leaving his wife be in order to find his mother.

"Ah, there you are." Narcissa greeted first. She was in her own suite down the opposite end of the hall and to the left. "Yani told me you and Hermione had arrived. How is she?"

"Resting with some tea."

"Good. Let me know when she's gotten some rest. I would like to speak with her."

"Of course," Draco nodded before sitting down. "Did you call off your watchdogs like I told you?"

"Yes," his mother replied bitterly. "As much as I applaud you for wanting to go about this the 'right way,' our way would've flushed out whoever tried to kill your wife must sooner."

"I agree, but 'our way' of doing things has gotten us into more trouble than we ever bargained for. Besides, Potter's the one leading the case. He wouldn't let Hermione down."

"I suppose…" Narcissa sighed. And then she was smiling as she reached for the tea she had abandoned when her son had entered the room. "How does she like the suite?"

"She loves it, naturally. You know, mother, there are plenty of other suites that we could've stayed in."

"I know, but this one is so much more appropriate, don't you think?"

Draco smirked. "To start thinking about children or making them?"

Narcissa didn't even bother to hide her ulterior motives. "Both,"

"You realize that we've been married less than a month, don't you?"

"I do. But exactly how much longer do you expect me to live my life alone?"

Draco sighed at the guilt trip at its finest. "You have friends over often enough. Not to mention that your house arrest is over come August and then you're free to go wherever you wish."

"Prissy socialites and gossip are no substitute for family, Draco." Narcissa replied. "I can have all the dinner parties in the world and shop until I'm too tired, but in the end I'll still end up in this massive home with no one but house elves."

Guilt trip times two.

Draco sat forward in his chair and asked her dead on, "Mother, is this your very elaborate way of saying that you want Hermione and me to live here with you?"

Narcissa tutted. "I said no such thing."

His mother's tells weren't many and they were hard to recognize. But the way she was subtly avoiding eye contact and her back erect enough to break, he knew that was _exactly_ what she was asking.

"She's still hesitant about this place." Draco said quietly.

Narcissa resisted doing the classless action of biting her lip. Instead she took a deep breath and nodded. "I understand. Perhaps spending the week here will help that."

* * *

Hermione had a sneaky suspicion that her tea had been lightly tapped off with a Sleeping Draught. Soon after drinking it she had drifted off into one the best sleeps she'd had as of late and woke up some three hours later. She strained her hearing to see if Draco was anywhere in the enormous suite, but later cursed herself because she was a witch and there were much more efficient methods.

She picked up her wand from the nightstand and cast a spell to detect if anyone was in the suite aside from her. The answer was no, and she fiddled with her wand as she wondered what to do. Her first instinct was to head to the library that was beautifully within her reach and could distract her for hours. However, she imagined that Draco would send her straight back to bed if he caught her out of it. For once she would decide not to be a stubborn mule and adhere to the advice of her husband, friends, and every Healer who told her to take it easy.

With a sigh she looked up at the ceiling and realized that it was painted like the sky. It wasn't enchanted like the one at Hogwarts, but it was still pretty to look at. She smiled at it and then swallowed, her throat feeling incredibly dry.

"And of course there's no kitchen here…"

Suddenly there was a _crack!_ that broke the air and Hermione jumped. She looked to her right and found a house elf who was bowing before her.

"My name is Frizzle," he greeted. "I have been assigned to be your personal house elf."

Hermione's eyes bulged. " _My personal house elf?_ "

"Yes, Mistress Malfoy." He bowed again. "The Matriarch Mistress Malfoy has given me over to you."

"Oh…. How... _kind_ of her." The brunette gritted out between clenched teeth.

"I sensed you might be needing something." Frizzle continued. "May I help you with anything?"

Hermione really didn't want to impose. Right now she was greatly deciding whether to slip off her shirt and give it to the house elf, but what would Narcissa do and how would the woman feel if she just dismissed him? Add in the fact that she was dying of thirst and one could say that she was in dilemma.

"A glass of water would be lovely. Please?"

"Right away,"

Frizzle disappeared from where he stood only to be back moments later carrying the glass of water she had asked for on a fancy tray. Hermione was perplexed by him, not to mention in awe. He was a _very_ sophisticated house elf. He didn't even refer to himself by his first name when he spoke. She told him this much and Frizzle beamed.

"Matriarch Mistress Malfoy has a few select house elves bred to be able to entertain certain guests. She imagined that you would prefer one of us rather than the others. Do you disapprove?" Frizzle asked with a hint of worry.

Hermione instantly wanted to say yes -to the nature of house elves as a whole. But as to Frizzle…

"No," she answered with a soft smile.

His face lighted up. "Excellent. Is there anything else you would like for me to do?"

Hermione was going against her nature terribly for this.

"I'm on bed rest, Frizzle. Draco told me that there's a library in this suite and I was wondering if you could possibly…?"

"I will fetch one that I'm sure you will enjoy."

* * *

When Draco came back to the suite he was utterly bemused as to why he was hearing voices. Hermione wasn't one to talk to herself or even in her sleep. There was also no way for any of her friends to be here -something of which he would alter tomorrow in terms of the Floo and the Manor's wards. He supposed it could've been Blaise, but nothing could've shocked him more than seeing his very anti-house elf wife being served biscuits on a tray by one.

"These are very good, thank you Frizzle."

"It's my pleasure." He smiled broadly as he set the tray down on the nightstand next to her. "I shall leave these here. Would you like another glass of water? Some tea perhaps?"

"Not at the moment, thanks."

Frizzle bowed before leaving. It was only then that Hermione saw Draco standing in the doorway and she turned beet red at once.

"I…"

Draco had never felt so smug before -and rightly so. He sauntered into the bedroom with a wide grin and said, "Ordering around a house elf, are we?"

"It's not my fault." She argued. "Your mother _assigned_ him to me."

A blond brow rose. "Did she really?"

"Yes. And he asked if I needed anything and I wasn't planning to ask for anything but...hell, I was thirsty and there's no kitchen in here!"

Draco's triumphant expression was in full force again. "And so the biscuits and the book are...what? Him saying thank you?"

Hermione huffed and leaned back onto her pillows. "Oh, shut up."

He laughed and walked around the bed to climb in with her. She was trying her best to stare straight ahead and not look at him, but he was cuddled up close and nuzzling his nose in her neck. After a few passing seconds she groaned in frustration and wrapped her arms around him.

"My mother plans to stop by and say hello at some point tonight."

"Fair enough,"

"And," Draco added. "I should warn you that sometime between today and next week, she may ask, in not so many words, if you would like to move here."

It was hard not to control her surprise.

"You're serious?"

"I am. It's why she set us up in this suite."

Hermione scrunched her brows. "Why would that make me want to move into the Manor? Just because it looks nice?"

"That and the fact that it's so _child friendly._ "

There went her surprise again.

"You're kidding."

Draco held in his laughter. She looked positively mortified at the thought and he kissed her to soothe her rampant worries.

"She doesn't expect me to knock you up _today_ , Hermione. Although, if I did I'm sure she wouldn't mind. She just wanted us to see how nice it could be future-wise if we stayed."

Hermione bit the inside of her jaw. "I don't know, Draco. That's a huge request."

"I know, and you don't have to answer right away."

She paused.

"What do _you_ want to do?"

"Me?" Draco shrugged. "I lived here my whole life. I have memories here -many that I would like to forget."

"Tell me about it." Hermione murmured softly.

"But I'd only stay for two reasons: first, despite the horrible things that I still remember, they're...more bearable since I've been with you. Second, because my mother asked."

Yes, one would do a lot of things because a parent asked them to. Hermione sighed and told him that she would think about it. She would have a whole week in the Manor to do so anyway.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Alright, so there goes a bit more information on Theo! There are so many things I love about this chapter. Narcissa, ever Slytherin and never taking the direct approach to doing things. And Hermione who caved and her guilt about it lol.

-WP

Replies to Guests

 **Catuhh:** As you can see from this chapter, it was _definitely_ too easy. Theo, smart man, probably wouldn't have put his name on the evidence just as Harry said. I like your theory ;)


	42. Bombshells

**Author's note #1:** FYI possible trigger towards the end of the chapter. You'll begin to recognize what kind as you read. Carry on!

* * *

Just like Draco had said, Narcissa had passed by the suite to see Hermione and to express her deepest regrets about her attack. Among asking how she was feeling, she made sure to point out that _no one_ got away with hurting a Malfoy and that whoever was responsible would reap what they sowed. Whether she had meant through the Ministry or other means Hermione didn't ask. She didn't want to know and she wasn't going to probe to find out. Before leaving Narcissa asked her about how she had liked the suite. There was no lie to be told about her current living arrangement, so Hermione was honest and said that it was beautiful. And then the lovely matriarch of the family (as Frizzle constantly described her) smiled quite proudly and replied that she was glad. She also added that it was one of the _smaller_ suites, and that others went as high as eight bedrooms –perfect for when extended family and friends came to visit.

When Hermione had told Ron and Ginny this the next day, one was rolling their eyes while the other was having a laughing fit.

"Wow, she's really laying it on thick, isn't she?" Ginny said as she wiped her tears and got the last of her giggles out.

"Very much so, yes. Thank you, Frizzle." Hermione said as the lovely house elf put out a fresh pot of tea and three cups on the coffee table. He bowed out after she told him that they could pour the tea themselves.

"Not that I'm unhappy you're not ranting about SPEW-"

"S.P.E.W, Ron." The brunette scolded.

Ron smirked before reaching over for the pot of tea. "But why aren't you? I expected you to be stark-raving mad by now."

"Believe me I was. The idea still rattles me, I promise you. However, after talking to Frizzle a bit before bed I'm more...lenient with his position."

"How come? You've had a heart attack with all the other ones."

"Well, as much I detest the word 'cultured,' that _is_ Frizzle's nature." Hermione sighed. "I asked him, outright, if he would rather be free. And honest to Merlin I would've given him a sock if he told me yes. But he said no. He said that it had nothing to do with the fact that, technically speaking, he was bound to the Malfoy family for the rest of his life. He likes the family since he's been with them."

Ron snorted. "Red flag, –Ow!"

Hermione smiled happily to herself at her Stinging Jinx and set her wand back on the couch. "May I finish?"

"Yes…"

"Right. Well, Frizzle's new- _ish_. He's only been with Narcissa and Draco about a year after the war ended. That said, according to him, he's been treated well. He likes being with them. Serving them...and me. So much so that he told me if I ever freed him he'd still follow me wherever I went."

"That's beautiful." Ginny said dreamily. "And some serious dedication."

"You're telling me." Hermione chuckled. "But I think after Draco and I leave here I'll still free him. His pleasant demeanor hardly fits those 'nice rags' that he's forced to wear."

"So you're really going to find somewhere else then?" Ron questioned with a sincere bout of hope.

"I'd like to, yes. I promised myself that I would still think about it though."

"Hmm, in that case I'm going to have to visit you every day because this…" Ginny took a minute to look around the living room. "This is a breathtaking bit of living space."

Hermione nodded. It really and truly was.

"How's the wedding planning going, Ginny?"

Ginny groaned as she cupped her face with her hands. "Ugh, don't talk about weddings. It's one month and three days away and I still feel like I have a million things to do. I've been planning for months! How did you and Malfoy do it in so little time?"

"Rich people," Hermione shrugged. Ron began choking on his tea and then stared at her as enlightenment seemed to hit him.

"Merlin's beard… Hermione, you're rich now!"

She couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, you're quite observant. Thank you."

"No, no, really think about it." Ron continued. "This isn't a normal kind of rich. This is… This is _Malfoy_ rich. Do you realize the things you could get just at the drop of a hat? Or a drop of a name, rather?"

"I suppose so. Quite honestly I haven't given much thought to Draco's money-"

" _Your_ money,"

" _Our_ money," Hermione further amended. "Although, when it does cross my mind it's rather daunting. There's nothing that I would spent it on –not that I'd go on a spending spree or anything."

"A charity, perhaps?" Ginny asked. "Might as well do some good when you can."

 _Do some good when I can…_

Hermione grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

Hermione's second day at Malfoy Manor didn't only have Ron and Ginny for guests. Blaise and Liliana stopped by later on in the day as well as Uriel –Lydia too, to the brunette's surprise, seeing as she'd been on assignment up until yesterday.

"I'm so sorry that I couldn't see you sooner." Lydia frowned. They were all in the living room, this time eating light snacks before dinner in the next two hours.

"Don't worry about it, honestly." Hermione reassured her. "You had good reason to be away. How did the case go anyway?"

"Can't discuss specifics, but it went well." Lydia beamed. She then turned to Liliana and added, "Be glad I can't talk about it. It'd probably be enough to send you into premature labor. How much longer do you have?"

"Three more months," Liliana replied proudly as she patted her stomach. "I still can't believe it. The time went by so fast."

"It sure did." Blaise said with a wide grin. Then he turned his mischievous eyes on Draco before adding, "Before we know it it'll be Hermione saying that she's only got three more months to go."

Draco immediately began to choke. He had been in the middle of eating a finger sandwich during Blaise's statement and both of those things had been a _bad_ combination.

"Blaise," Hermione playfully admonished as she patted her husband on the back. "How many times do I have to tell you not to drop bombshells on him when he's not expecting it?"

"Well, it wouldn't be called a _bomb_ shell if he was expecting it, would it?"

"I bloody hate you." Draco glared as he got the last of his coughs out. Blaise laughed.

"On the contrary you love me and nothing you say will get me to think otherwise."

Draco rolled his eyes before attempting to eat again while Uriel picked back up the conversation.

"Have you thought of any names yet?"

Blaise nodded. "Just this week as a matter of fact. Giana Carolina if the baby is a girl and Luka Giovanni if it's a boy."

"Oh, those are lovely names." Hermione practically squealed. "I've always been partial to French names myself, although," she said with a side-glance to Draco. "I'm pretty sure I won't be using any of them in the future."

"Why not?" Lydia asked.

"Tradition. Draco's mother's family has a penchant for using constellations and stars as names."

"That's a wonderful tradition!"

"Not if the kid's name turns out to be _Corvus_ or something equally horrible." Blaise gave a mock shiver.

"Our children will have _great_ names, thank you very much." Draco grumbled at him.

Blaise chuckled before turning to Hermione. "I sure hope you have as much fun as I do annoying him."

Draco chucked what remained of his sandwich at Blaise's face. Hermione watched the juvenile display with a wide grin as a true food fight broke out between the "adults." Uriel played referee while Liliana waddled her way to the restroom, leaving Lydia ample opportunity to ask a desperate question.

"Has there been any sort of breakthrough with your case yet, Hermione?" Lydia questioned her. Hermione sighed and shook her head.

"No, there hasn't. According to Harry, it's a temporary dead end considering Nott's compromised memories. Travers is handling the painting's frame and maybe that can lead to something, but the others never did so…I don't know."

"Might I make a suggestion?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, of course."

"I think espionage would work wonders for your case. Dark attracts dark. That said, the case that I just wrapped up stumbled a bit on the cursed objects cases that's had the Ministry stumped. I didn't overhear much –just a whisper here or there –but...what I'm saying is that I want to go under again. You know, get into contact with a few of Nott's people and maybe figure this out."

"Lydia...oh…I…I couldn't possibly ask you to do that!" Hermione stammered. Lydia took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"You're not asking me. I'm telling you. Someone tried to kill my friend and that monster, whoever it is, is _not_ going to get away with that. So, here's me informing you that I'm taking this on. I already talked it over with Uriel this morning and he's on board." Lydia smiled. "Anything for our friends."

* * *

"It's a bit odd to have a Healer appointment on a Sunday, isn't it?" Narcissa asked as she watched her son help his wife into a thick cloak. She was sitting by the fire after having just finished breakfast with the pair. It had been lovely, in her opinion, to have meals with them since they had been staying at the Manor. Hermione was turning out to be quite the conversationalist and it made their family gatherings that much better.

"It is, but special arrangements and all that." Draco replied. "We'd rather _not_ grace the cover of the Daily Prophet again."

 _That_ had been an utter disaster. The day of Hermione's attack someone had managed to get a _wonderful_ snapshot of Draco carrying her in his arms and calling out for help. The headline had been heinous. The speculations that had followed were worse. Thank Merlin for Potter (who knew he'd ever say that one day?). With his statement about what had _really_ happened to Hermione circulating it had cut down some of the rumors. There were still those, however, who were convinced that he had done something to his wife and hoped and prayed that he would be held responsible sometime soon.

"Oh yes, of course. Well, I hope your appointment goes swimmingly, dear."

Hermione beamed. "Thank you, Narcissa. Ready to go, Draco?"

Draco nodded, bid farewell to his mother, and then led the way out of the suite and soon out of the Manor altogether. His wife's Healers had been _very_ specific concerning her travels. Until after her first post-attack evaluation (which was today) she wasn't supposed to do anything strenuous. Apparating and taking a portkey counted as such as it altered the body a bit during travel. Flooing might have been alright, but ever-paranoid, Draco didn't think breathing in soot and Floo flame smoke would be good for her. And so they would be taking a _hideously_ long journey from Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire that included both a bus (the blond was _not_ thrilled about that aspect of the trip) and a train to London.

Hermione had had her shares of laughs while on the bus. Her husband had been particularly bothered about the "lack of space" and the "constant jerks" when the bus stopped. Trains were the only forms of muggle transportation that he liked, as well he should what with the Hogwarts Express. It was her great hope to get him on a plane one day.

"Ah, Mrs. Malfoy, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione's Healer greeted once he saw them.

"Healer Hasbrook," the brunette nodded as she slipped off her cloak and passed it to Draco.

"How have you been feeling?"

"Fine. Great, actually. And quite frankly that bothers me a bit."

"I keep telling her to stop looking for something to be wrong and just be happy about it." Draco said from his chair in the corner of the room. Hermione had moved to sit on the examination chair while Healer Hasbrook took her arm in his hand.

"Your husband is right, Mrs. Malfoy. You should be thankful –especially considering the other victims." He raised his wand and pressed it in the crook of her elbow. After a quick spell her blood pressure numbers appeared in a puff of red above her arm. "A little high, but nothing out of the ordinary. We can attribute it to nerves if your blood work doesn't turn up anything else."

"Trust me," Draco chuckled. "It's nerves."

Hermione childishly stuck her tongue out at him while her Healer went about drawing a bit of her blood. It was handed off to one of his aides and soon the examination chair had been lowered down to an examination table and Healer Hasbrook's wand was working its way from her head down.

Draco, ever proficient in hiding his own emotions but accurately assessing them in others, was trained in on the Healer's face. He smiled here and there. Nodded at other times. He even gave a "Good. Very good," once in a while. Everything was fine until the man's wand reached Hermione's abdomen. The change in his demeanor was instantaneous –as well as Draco's.

"What is it?"

Hermione hadn't been looking at Healer Hasbrook's face. She wasn't sure what she would've done if she had seen him frown while examining her, and so she had closed her eyes throughout the entire thing. But upon hearing Draco's tone of voice, she detected something that she feared and finally opened her eyes.

"Healer Hasbrook?" Hermione addressed him. He glanced at both her and Draco in turn before lowering his wand and taking a step back.

"More tests still have to be done." He said immediately. "This was just a precursory examination to detect any anomalies. Nothing here is definite."

"But there _is_ something." Draco pressed. "What did you find?"

Healer Hasbrook sighed before allowing Hermione to sit up. "It didn't show up before, and perhaps that's the nature of the curse in the painting's frame. It would be up for a DA Auror to decide. There's...a concentrated mass of magic residing in your uterus. As I've said, more tests need to be done. It might be removable. It might not be a mass at all and just be scarring. However, depending on the damage then…"

"Then what?" Draco asked as he stood from his seat.

"Then...the likelihood of having children could range from minor difficulties to...not being able to have children at all."

Hermione had heard everything Healer Hasbrook had said, but it was muffled and sounded miles away. She could see the frown that she had been dreading. She could also see Draco from where she sat and his facial expression completely crestfallen. As her Healer said, more tests still had to be done, but how long would that take? Today? Until the end of the week? _Next week?_ No, she couldn't wait that long.

She wouldn't.

Hermione hopped off the examination table and headed straight for the door.

"Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Hermione?"

She didn't pay them any mind. She did, however, slow down when she passed her husband and grabbed her wand that had been protruding out of her cloak pocket. Alarmed, Draco rushed out of the examination room after her and hurried down the hall.

"Hermione!"

She still didn't say anything. Instead she raised her wand and Draco knew the beginnings of apparation when he saw it. He ran forward in order to grab her arm before she left without him and felt the awkward pull through the air before finally landing in an alley, wobbling on his feet.

Draco shook his head, quickly checking himself for any signs of splinching since apparating mid-motion was _not_ the best of ideas. He would've checked Hermione too had she still been by his side. Instead she was gone. He stepped out onto the sidewalk, hastily looking left and right for his wife when he spotted her further down the street. By the looks of it she was headed towards the Ministry.

Draco ran after her, completely out of breath when he reached her, and continued following her as they headed inside the quiet building.

"Hermione," he panted. "What are we doing here?"

"It's Sunday." Hermione ignored his question. "Do you think Travers would be working on the frame now?"

"I don't know. Maybe? Hermione," he reached for her hand to stop her from going into the lift. "Stop. We need to talk."

" _No,_ we don't. We need to get to that frame, so are you coming or not?"

Draco recognized a witch with a vendetta when he saw one, so he sighed and nodded. They both got into the lift together and it wasn't until they had made it to the Auror Department that he realized that he shouldn't be here. He was still suspended. And _of course_ as luck would have it Travers, the overzealous git that he was, was here _on a Sunday_ , in the Containment Center. He was walking down the hall with massive parchment notes in his hands and a self-inking quill between his teeth when said quill fell to the floor as he spotted the couple.

"Malfoy? What are you doing here? Aren't you suspended?"

Before Draco could respond (not to mention threaten him in a thousand ways not to tell anyone that he was here), Hermione beat him to the punch.

"Where's the frame?"

Travers furrowed his brows. "I'm sorry?"

" _The frame,_ " she repeated. "I need to examine it."

"Are you mad?" He sputtered. "I can't let you near that thing. It nearly killed you!"

"Listen to me, Travers, and listen well." Hermione raised her wand and aimed it at his chest. "I _will_ see that frame, and you have three seconds to tell me where it is before I curse your prick clean off. One," she lowered her wand below his navel. " _Two,_ "

"It's three doors back this way." Travers blurted out. Hermione walked around him and headed where he gestured. He let all of his notes fall to the ground as he began to follow her. "You shouldn't be touching it! Malfoy, what the hell is up with your wife?!" He asked once the blond got in step with him.

"Don't ask." Draco replied.

The men got to the door just as Hermione stepped inside.

Travers sucked in a shot of air. "Don't touch-!"

"I don't need to touch it to read it, you arse." Hermione snapped at him.

The first thing she realized once she had gotten to the room was that the pull she had first felt was gone. Either the magic inhabiting it had tapered off by now or all of it had drained into her. Into the... _mass_ that Healer Hasbrook had talked about. She walked all around the frame, training her eyes to spot the tiniest details if they were there. They _had_ to be there.

"What are you looking for?" Travers asked.

"Runes. There has to be runes here."

"There were, but you can't see them just with your eyes. Wait, let me go grab my notes."

Draco waited in anticipation as Travers went to retrieve his fallen notes. In the meantime he watched his wife –his very _angry_ and determined wife –as she continued to try to spot the runes that she wouldn't be able to see anyway.

"Here," Travers said as he came back. He had shuffled around parchment pieces until he found the one that he was looking for. It was a superimposed image of runes carved onto the inside of the painting's frame.

"These haven't been translated yet." Hermione announced. "Why?"

"It's Ancient Runes," he scoffed. "We're having someone portkey in to have a look tomorrow because no one here is competent enough to translate it. No one except you."

Hermione slowly nodded, her anger slowly transforming from blind rage to deep sadness as her eyes flickered over the runes repeatedly.

"That's why I came." She said softly. "So I could know. So I could be sure." Tears filled her eyes and they began to trickle one by one before she handed the parchment back to Travers. He slipped it from her fingers, confusion written over his face, before turning to Draco and wordlessly asking what was wrong.

"It's another Targeting Spell." Hermione told him –Draco too, so that he could understand. "A Targeting Spell coupled with one for infertility. Tell Harry and the rest of the Investigative Division that they're most likely looking for a pureblood aristocrat dead set against sullying a fellow pureblood lineage with that of a muggleborn. _This_ particular Targeting Spell requires something very personal of mine for it to work –hair, blood… I'd suggest going through the guest list at my wedding. It's the only way whoever did this would know for sure that Theo wasn't there..."

There was a heavy pause after she had finished talking. And then she stumbled on her feet, her body aiming straight for the floor.

"Hermione!" Draco shouted as he ran for her and grabbed her around her waist before she hit. She wasn't unconscious though. She hadn't even fainted. She was just crying. Crying with her hands over her face and her shoulders shaking. He just sat there with her on his lap and let her sob violently into his chest.

As for Travers, he simply stood where he was, deeply uncomfortable and astounded at the scene he had just witnessed. He was no fan of Malfoy's, but he wouldn't wish this on anyone. _Certainly_ not on Hermione. And so he frowned bitterly, slowly backing out of the room and giving one last look at the dastardly cursed object that had ruined a couple's life.

* * *

 **Author's note #2:** Well, things have certainly taken a terrible turn :(. I had thought about doing this early on, changed my mind because I thought that would be _horrible_ for Draco and Hermione, but then the lovely **nikimass09** brought up the suggestion in a review. After that I said screw it and just put it in after all. This story isn't all smiles and fairy dust hence the "hurt/comfort" portion of the rating. They've been through a lot as a couple already, so here's a bit more.

-WP

Replies to Guests

 **Guest:** Thank you! Glad that you liked Narcissa. I really do enjoy writing her :)


	43. Smashing Glasses

**Author's Note #1:** FYI, continuation of trigger topic/some depressive themes. Thanks :)

* * *

"How's Hermione?"

"A wreck," Draco said simply as he gently swirled a short glass of firewhiskey in his hand. It was almost midnight and he was sitting in Blaise's study –a new habit developed over the past week ever since _the news_ dropped. As she had been for eight straight days, Hermione was sleeping under the effects of a mixture of Sleeping Draught and Dreamless Sleep. It was the only way that she could.

Blaise had nodded at his friend's response and sipped his water. It was better if at least one of them was sober.

"Did she at least get out of bed today?"

"If you count getting up to use the loo, then yes, she did."

No, Blaise didn't quite count that as such, but to avoid a backlash from the blond he decided it would do well to agree.

"It's unbelievable, Blaise." Draco said suddenly. "Here's a woman, who at the age of _seventeen_ , scoured hell and back to find Horcruxes, battled Deatheaters and Snatchers, barely making it into adulthood and when she finally does, what happens? She's reduced to...to nothing."

"Mate," Blaise said tentatively. "She just found out, through no fault of her own, that she can't have children. She's earned the right to be a mess right now."

"I didn't say that she didn't. It's just...hard to watch."

"I get it."

Draco snapped his eyes to his so quickly it was downright scary. "No, you don't."

"Draco, I-"

"You _don't_ get it, so don't say that you do. What could you _possibly_ understand about my predicament when your life is so bloody perfect?" Draco stood on his feet and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Who hates you? No one. How many death threats do you get? None. Top it all off, your wife is damn near ready to pop, so don't you _ever_ say that you-"

"This is Liliana's third pregnancy."

That shut Draco's mouth in a second.

"What?"

Blaise sighed and leaned forward in his chair. "You heard me. Liliana had two miscarriages before this, so trust me when I say that I understand. That I know what it's like to watch your wife fall apart and no matter how hard you try nothing you do helps. It's hard and it's draining –especially when you're hurting too."

Draco sat down. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Blaise shrugged. "You were going through a lot. You didn't need my problems too."

"Your problems are my problems. We're friends and that's the rule."

"That's a pretty crappy rule."

"Bite me; I didn't make it up."

Blaise smirked while Draco looked down at this glass. He stared at it for countless minutes before standing and hurling it against the wall and letting it shatter to a dozen pieces.

"Feel better?"

"Hardly,"

Blaise finished off his water before rising to his feet and handing off his glass to Draco. "Break another one. I've got plenty of glasses, not to mention that's what _Reparo_ is for."

Draco didn't take it. Instead he used his wand to fix his broken glass and summon it to him.

"Break glasses with me?" Draco asked.

Blaise agreed by going over and bringing his minibar within arm's reach between them. It was laden with glasses, each one having been broken at least thirty times over when he was alone. At least this time he had company.

* * *

Hermione shot up in bed breathing erratically and completely drenched in sweat. She wiped at her face to move her hair from it and then cried. Or maybe it was just more sweat? She didn't know. She sighed and looked over to her left for Draco, but he wasn't there. He was probably still with Blaise. Although she would love to have him here to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be alright, she understood. He needed to cope too and if being holed away with Blaise at one in the morning was his way of doing it, then she wouldn't stop him.

"Frizzle,"

The house elf came in with a pop and approached the bed. "Yes, Mistress Malfoy?"

"A glass of water, please?"

"Of course,"

"And more Sleeping Draught and Dreamless Sleep, please."

Frizzle frowned. "Mistress Malfoy, the mixture I prepared was enough to make you sleep for several hours. If you've woken up then it wouldn't be wise to-"

"To argue with me," Hermione finished with a heated glare. "Do as I asked, Frizzle."

"Yes, right away." Frizzle replied with obvious disappointment.

Hermione fell back onto the bed ungracefully once he was gone and stared at the ceiling. The painted sky glowed at night –a dull sensation that normally would've carried her away to dreamland. But ever since she found out about her curse-induced infertility sleep was impossible. She was agitated and depressed and the horrors of her husband's childhood home haunted her even more than they used to. Although she hadn't left the suite and it looked nothing like the room where her torture had been, it was like her body _knew_ where she was. Like it was dead set in its efforts to betray her in other ways by telling her that she shouldn't be here. In this home. In this _life._ Life with her husband –not life in general. Despite her circumstances she wasn't on the cusp of offing herself. She just wanted to sleep and be dead to the world right now. It was close enough.

Frizzle came back with the water and the sleeping mixture Hermione had asked for. She drank the water hungrily and then turned her sights on the potion. However, before she could properly put her lips to it a hand shot out and grabbed it from her.

"Hey!"

"Be quiet." Narcissa admonished. "If you're going to abuse anything I'd rather it be alcohol, not sleeping potions. Next thing you know you're in an _eternal_ sleep. Then where would Draco be? Without children _and_ his wife. Absolutely terrible."

Hermione sneered. "Of course. I'll never have children because someone hated me enough to curse me, but yes, _please_ only care about Draco and _his_ life."

Narcissa tutted. "Silly girl. You and Draco are married. Your life _is_ his life. Whatever happens to you happens to him. It's as simple as that. If I don't say anything directly about _you_ , why should that matter?"

Hermione scoffed. "If that's your roundabout way of saying that you care about me then I'm insulted."

Narcissa smirked. "If that insults you then you'll need much thicker skin to survive in this family."

Hermione frowned and let her gaze fall to her lap. "Apparently so…"

Narcissa's smirk fell and an expression of true concern graced her features before she sighed.

"Come take a walk with me?"

Hermione looked up. "Was that a request or an order?"

"What do you think?"

 _An order._ _ **Definitely**_ _an order…_

The brunette groaned before getting out of bed. Narcissa handed over her night robe and passed along her slippers and the two women left the suite to venture off into the dark castle illuminated by elegant torches along the walls.

"We won't be inside long." Narcissa reassured. "We're heading to the gardens. They look lovely at night."

Hermione would have to have faith in her on that one. Right now everything looked and felt dark despite the halls being well-illuminated at this time of night. After walking for about ten minutes, they exited the Manor through a back entrance Hermione had never seen and couldn't help but gasp once they had gone through the doors.

They had led to an _enormous_ terrace, an expensive looking wood for the flooring with sturdy, marble-like pillars for rails. Beyond that and on the actual grounds were the gardens. Although Hermione's wedding had been at Malfoy Manor, it appeared to her now that it must've taken place on some other side of the home because this… This was just… _Magnificent._

Brick pathways weaved this way and that, arches upon arches of flowers to walk under like a beautiful maze, all lit up to make it even more enchanting.

"My apologies for not having your wedding here." Narcissa said. "Lucius had this constructed and it would've hurt me terribly if the tranquility of it had been disturbed."

"I'm sorry," Hermione turned to her abruptly. "But did you say _Lucius_ had this constructed?"

Narcissa smiled. "Yes. He designed every part of it from the bricks, to its layout, down to each flower and their colors and where they should go. It was his gift to me a year after we were married."

"That's… That's quite beautiful."

"Isn't it? Draco will simply have to forgive me. He was going to show you this himself, but I thought you could do with a walk-through tonight."

For the first time in eight days Hermione smiled. She allowed Narcissa to lead the way from the terrace and into the immaculate garden maze. It was then that she realized it must've been magically temperature controlled. It was the middle of January, she was in her nightgown, and she wasn't freezing.

"I do hope you don't regret marrying Draco after your...incident." Narcissa approached the subject delicately.

Hermione shook her head. "The situation is horrible, but I could never regret Draco. I'm just… I knew there would be a backlash, but I never expected this. A _deliberate_ attempt to keep us from having a family is...cruel. Completely and utterly cruel."

"I agree, and that's coming from someone who knows enough evil curses to write ten books."

There went another smile from Hermione.

"There's always adoption." Narcissa suggested.

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "I haven't ruled that out. It just wouldn't be the same."

"No, perhaps not. However, the love for a child would be."

That she couldn't disagree with. A child was lovable no matter whose it was. With their chubby cheeks, that particular baby smell, that laugh…

Hermione felt tears in her eyes, but she blinked them back. "Draco told me that you wanted us to move here with you."

Narcissa stiffened a bit, but she didn't let her normal disposition change. "I might have said something of that nature, yes."

"I've been thinking about it, and honestly? If recent events hadn't happened I would have said yes."

Narcissa raised one brow. "And now?"

"I used to have nightmares about that parlor room." Hermione said. She didn't miss the draining of her mother-in-law's face. "And now I have nightmares about the family suite because it can never be used for its purpose. Do you understand?"

"Yes, yes, I… I understand."

"But I promise that Draco and I will visit often."

Crestfallen, Narcissa nodded. "Of course."

"And when your house arrest is over," Hermione continued with a deep breath. "I would appreciate it if you moved in with us."

Narcissa stopped walking and quickly (yet still in a refined manner) faced her. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm not opposed to living with you, Narcissa. I just can't do it _here._ I haven't talked to Draco about it just yet, but I'm sure he won't object to his own mother."

"I'm… I'm unsure of what to say."

"Don't say anything." Hermione shrugged. "Besides, I would much rather enjoy the rest of the gardens than talk."

Narcissa was poised on the outside, but it was a completely different story where her heart was concerned. Instead she cleared her throat and continued their walk.

* * *

By the time Draco got back to the Manor it was just after three a.m. He had expected to find Hermione asleep, not wide awake in bed. Her greeting had surprised him –not the fact that she did, but rather the amount of energy that was behind it.

"You're not sleeping."

Hermione smiled a little. "And you're not drunk."

Draco felt his cheeks flush a little as he rubbed the back of his neck. "If it makes any difference I was before. Blaise got me to sober up."

"Potion?"

"Smashing glasses,"

"Ah, yes. That would do it."

 _It certainly had…_ Draco thought to himself as he took off his shoes and changed into nightwear despite the fact that it was technically morning.

"You're in a particularly cheery mood." He commented as he crawled into bed.

"Oh, I'm far from cheery." Hermione chuckled. "But I can tell you that I won't be an overt, weeping mess anymore."

"So you'll be a covert one then?"

"Don't be cheeky."

Draco grinned. He climbed into Hermione's open arms, but he felt wrong about it. _He_ should be comforting _her,_ not the other way around. However, he didn't shy away. She seemed quite happy to be doing this and so he stayed where he was as she cuddled him.

"May I ask what brought on the attitude change?"

"Your mother took away my sleeping potions."

"And?"

"She made me hate her for about fifteen minutes."

"And then?"

"She showed me the gardens."

"Did she really?" Draco asked for confirmation. When she nodded he brooded. "I was going to show you those."

Hermione laughed. "She said that you'll have to forgive her. Apparently I needed it."

"I see that it worked." He chuckled. "Is that what you want me to do for you? Build you a massive garden so you can order Frizzle to keep it neat and tidy twenty-four hours a day? Or better yet a library. It'll be bigger than the one in this suite and I'll tailor it exactly as you want."

"That would be lovely." She told him as she caressed his cheek. "I would love to have that. In our own house. A big one. A big one with six bedrooms, maybe more. As long as it's enough for our family and friends when they visit. And for your mother, because I asked her to move in with us. And it...it has to have room yet still for the...for the children we adopt." She added with a choked voice. "We can do that, right? That would be okay?"

Draco looked up at her and saw the tears he knew would be there. He disentangled himself from her arms and used his thumbs to wipe them away.

"Yes," he told her, trying to keep his own emotions at bay. He swallowed. "Yes, that would be okay."

"I want three of them." Hermione continued as her crying increased. "Three and no less."

"Three it is, and more if you want them."

She didn't reply but just nodded before burying her face in his chest. Draco held her and let her cry as she had been doing for days. But at least he knew this time around that better times were coming, and so he cried too but for a whole different reason.

* * *

 **Author's note #2:** I love this chapter for many reasons. There's such a level of understanding/comfort that goes on here. First with Blaise's revelation and them between Narcissa and Hermione. Sometimes you need a little tough love or just to break something.

-WP

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 **KangBoRam** : Well, I hope your heart came back. It probably flew away again with this one. Or is in tears. Either or.


	44. A Certain Type of Justice

Last week had been a time for wallowing. This week…well, there was still plenty of that but it was a different kind. Hermione was no longer confined to her bed, but spent an obscene amount of time in the suite's library reading. She found it unnerving to be near the bedrooms knowing what they were used for. Draco limited his time with Blaise and only spent an hour at most with him. He made sure to be home before Hermione attempted to go to bed. "Attempted" because she no longer had access to her sleeping aids due to his protective mother. That said, she could only sleep when he was there and it was minimal at best. She often woke up from horrible nightmares and he was the only person who could calm her down.

Regular visitors helped. There was a slew of them this week considering that last week she had banned anyone from seeing her unless said person lived in the Manor. It was interesting, Hermione couldn't help but admit, that in her time of desperation _Narcissa_ was preferable company than anyone outside of her husband. She had a feeling it had something to do with her mother-in-law's flippant behavior. She had a way of caring about you without actually caring. Only a Malfoy could pull off something like that. It was utterly unbelievable.

But this week she was opening up, and today she had her parents for company while Draco was off at the Ministry with Harry.

"How are you doing, Hermione?" Her mother asked. Hermione took a deep breath and shrugged.

"Better. I'm not ready to go dancing or anything, but I'm better than before."

"And you've been to a Healer this week?" Mr. Granger questioned. She nodded.

"Yes, yesterday. They've confirmed that for me to carry a child would be impossible -at least for right now. They want to try removing the curse or counteracting it with Healing Charms. If possible, it'll take time. The curse is quite active and keeps the damaged area as such.

Her parents nodded gravely before her mother threw out another idea.

"Have you and Draco considered surrogacy?"

"We've talked about it. If it's a no-go with curse removal then it's definitely an option. Either that or adoption. Oh! We've also contacted someone named Dr. Lonnegan. He's a squib working as a muggle doctor. Who better to help us try to circumvent magical problems the muggle way?"

"You've certainly given this a lot of thought." Mr. Granger smiled. "I'm glad it's not all shot to hell."

"So am I." Hermione replied with a deep breath. "Whoever did this… They thought that they had ruined our future, but they haven't. We won't let them."

"That's my girl." Mrs. Granger said with unfallen tears in her eyes. "Always fighting. Always pushing through. I hope Draco knows how lucky he is to have you."

"He does. Now let's get going. I promised you that I would show you the most _beautiful_ garden you will ever see in your life."

* * *

"I wanted you to know before it came out in the Daily Prophet tomorrow."

Draco could sing. He could skip, trot, hell, he could free all of his mother's house elves. They were in Harry's office and he had just given him the best news possible. _And_ it had come two-fold. For one thing, his suspension was over and he could go back to being an active Auror as early tomorrow. As for the other, Auror Warren -or rather simply Warren -was no long the Auror Head or an Auror at all.

"You're going to have to stop being so good to me, Potter." Draco said with an unusual springiness to his tone. "I might start to think we're friends."

Harry snorted. "Merlin forbid. And because I know you won't care, but Hermione will, I'm taking the Auror Head position."

Yes, this was information more for his wife than for him, but Draco, _much to his utter dismay_ , was a bit...happy...to know that he'd be working under someone much less vile than that Warren. Now if only Draco could pitch himself off a building without dying for having such a feeling that would be great.

"I've also got some more news." Harry continued. "This time it's a bit good _and_ bad."

Draco's face turned serious and he sighed. "Is it about Hermione's case?"

"Yes."

"What is it?"

"Something turned up while Lydia was undercover. She's terrifyingly good at her job."

Draco smiled a little. "Sacred Twenty-Eight, Potter. So? What did she find?"

"A lot of hearsay, but hearsay that could be backed up. That said…" Harry hesitated. "We found out who sent Hermione that painting."

"Who was it?" Draco demanded.

"The person isn't involved in the other cursed object cases." He piled on, hoping to calm the throbbing in the blond's neck if he prolonged things. "But he must know who did it or can tell us how to get into contact with him or her-"

" _Who was it?_ "

"...It was your uncle, Tiberius."

Draco's blood ran cold at that, and Harry, knowing from previous experience what to expect from the blond, braced himself.

"Was it really?" Draco asked calmly.

"Yes." Harry replied. "And conveniently he's been travelling since your wedding. We haven't a single clue as to where to begin looking for him. We were hoping that either you or your mother might."

Draco stroked his chin gently as the wheels in his head began to turn. "There are a few homes of ours where he might be. But I'll do you one better. My Uncle Tiberius has an interesting, and perhaps a bit inappropriate, attraction to my mother. I could have her invite him to the Manor for the weekend while Hermione's spending time with your wife or even Weasley. You and your team can arrest him there on Sunday."

"Sunday?" Harry furrowed his brow. "Why not the moment he gets there?"

"Because as far as you're concerned, he arrived at the Manor _on Sunday._ " Draco said darkly. "Do you understand?"

Harry could just imagine the sinister things the man before him was plotting. It was just radiating off of him -his rage, his sense of revenge. "Malfoy-"

"Hermione and I can't have children because of him." He cut him off. "Don't think for a second that you can talk me off this ledge like you did when it was Theo."

Harry wanted to fight him, but he looked far less persuadable than he had the first time revenge was at his feet. Instead he frowned and shook his head. "I can't bring him to the Ministry a broken, bloody mess you know."

"Not a problem. We Malfoys have a knack of doing things you might suspect, but can never prove."

* * *

Hermione was grumbling as she haphazardly threw clothes into a small suitcase. Draco watched in amusement as she went and even heard a curse or two slip past her lips.

"I hate this." She was saying. She eventually stopped and placed her hands on her hips. "Why do I have to leave?"

"I already told you," Draco replied as he reached into her suitcase on the bed and began folding her clothes. Despite it only being for a weekend, he couldn't stand to see them just thrown in there. "With everything that's happened _and_ knowing how members of my family feel about you it's better this way until my mother and I can get a handle on them."

Hermione groaned and rolled her eyes. "Utterly ridiculous,"

"I agree, however necessary it is."

She huffed and tossed in something else. Draco immediately went for it and folded it neatly. "Who's coming?"

"My Uncle Tiberius," he replied, trying his hardest to keep the hate out of his tone.

"Oh yes," she nodded in recognition. "The _charming_ gentleman who couldn't fathom that a little muggleborn like me could have an influence in politics."

Draco smirked. "That's the one."

"Why is he coming anyway?" Hermione asked. She slapped away her husband's hand from her clothes and closed her suitcase.

"He's been badgering my mother for a visit for weeks. She's finally decided to let him come and get the horrid stay over with."

Hermione scowled. "He seems quite persistent."

He shrugged. "He likes my mother."

"I feel quite sorry for her then."

"Indeed,"

Hermione sighed and crossed her arms. "Alright then. I guess that's it. How long is he staying again?"

"Coming tonight, leaving Sunday morning."

Draco suppressed a laugh as his wife grimaced again and picked up her suitcase. She led the way out of their bedroom and into the living room where she grabbed a handful of Floo Powder so she could be on her way to Harry and Ginny's. She was planning to make it a two-trip affair, spending tonight with the engaged couple and then Saturday night with Ron.

"For what it's worth," Hermione said before stepping into the fireplace. "I hope your uncle has a terrible time."

Draco kissed her before she left and stared at the place where she was just seconds ago. "Don't worry, he will."

* * *

Hours seemed to tick by slowly. Hermione had left at noon while Draco's uncle would be coming around six for dinner. He began to get dressed at around five and he seemed to grow angrier with each piece of clothing he put on. Eventually he found his face fixed in a scowl so menacing that he had almost frightened himself. It wasn't because the facial expression was new. It had been in his repertoire for so long that he could make it in his sleep. It was because there had been no need as of late to make a face so displeasing. He hoped after tonight he'd never have to make it again.

Draco sighed, relaxed his face as best as he could, and went to his mother's suite. He entered after she said it was okay and stopped in his tracks. His mother was wearing one of her more refined and elegant dinner dresses -a red one that his father had loved to see her in. Modest makeup had been applied and her hair was gracefully piled into a bun on the top of her head.

"Well?" Narcissa asked as she stood from her vanity mirror. "How do I look?"

"Like bait,"

Narcissa smiled broadly at the term and picked up her wand. "Perfect. Let's make our way down to the parlor room. We will wait for Tiberius there."

"I don't know if I can do this, Mother. The dinner," Draco clarified. "I don't know if I can sit there and pretend that everything is fine when all I want to do is curse him to hell and back and to hell again."

"Oh, darling," Narcissa sympathized as she stroked his cheek. "I completely understand. And this is where your classic, Malfoy stoicism comes into play. Uncontrolled rage _never_ does anyone any favors."

That was quite the true statement. And so Draco took a deep breath and nodded just before their house elf, Daisy, appeared by their feet and told them that Tiberius had made it to the Manor.

"Bring him to the parlor room and we'll be right along." Narcissa told the elf. She looked at her son once the elf was gone before leading the way from her suite down to the parlor room. It wasn't the same one where the unfortunate incident with Hermione had taken place. That particular stain on their history had been warded off so that it couldn't be opened. And, unknown to her daughter-in-law, charmed in such a way that should she go near it she would promptly be turned around and wouldn't even notice that she had.

"Tiberius," Narcissa greeted once she saw the man.

Draco's hand itched for his wand on reflex, but he didn't go for it. Instead he cupped his hands behind his back to keep them from throttling his uncle. He also watched as he kissed his mother on both cheeks and felt his insides squirm.

"Draco," Tiberius smiled at him. "Good to see you. You look just as dashing as you did on your wedding day."

"Thank you, uncle." The young blond gritted out while still sounding polite. "You look quite well put-together as well."

"Yes, well, Malfoys are hardly ones to have a less than impeccable presence." He replied smugly before smiling maliciously and adding, "And speaking of less than impeccable presences, your wife appears to be missing, Draco."

That alone was enough to make Draco whip out his wand and do unspeakable things to him, but he didn't. His mother had promptly cut his uncle off with a disapproving tut.

"Now, Tiberius, that's hardly a way to speak." Narcissa playfully scolded. However, Draco wasn't one to be fooled nor to miss the subtle and quick dangerous flash of her eyes. "My daughter-in-law has had a serious misfortune befall her."

"I know, I heard." Tiberius shook his head in faux solemness. The bloody man was hardly sorry at all. "So terrible what happened. I assume she's alright?"

"Not really, no." Draco replied. "The curse has rendered her capability of giving me an heir nul."

He hated the phrasing he had used, but it was done on purpose. He (and he assumed his mother too) noticed the smirk the man before them was trying and failing miserably to hide.

"That's horrible news." He tisked. "Tell me, Draco. Have you begun making arrangements then?"

Draco tilted his head some. "Arrangements?"

"Of course." Tiberius insisted. "The direct Malfoy line ends with you, you know. If your wife can't continue it, you'll simply have to find someone who can."

Draco's eyes narrowed to slits and the itch for his wand hand had returned. "Are you insinuating that I get a divorce and find a _new_ wife?"

"Naturally,"

Narcissa was afraid that her son would lunge at Tiberius for such a remark, but to her utter surprise he had remained relatively calm. Although, the throbbing vein in his neck was indicative of a disastrous outcome if she didn't intervene.

"Let's not sully our evening with negative talk, shall we?" Narcissa said. "Come. Dinner should be ready."

* * *

Dinner was painstaking. Draco had contemplated several times whether or not to have one of the house elves poison his uncle's food. As much as that would satisfy him, his Uncle Tiberius couldn't wind up dead -and certainly _not_ on their property. Everything was and needed to remain on his head, not theirs. And so he damaged his teeth by grinding them and cut off blood flow by holding his dinner utensils too tight. He only got a moment's reprieve when he saw his uncle's head droop towards the end of dessert. Draco watched in amusement as the man's eyes grew heavy and his head sway until he couldn't hold it up anymore and it fell with a thud to the table.

Narcissa laughed to herself. "Oh my. I might have had Daisy put just a tad too much Sleeping Draught in his dessert. What a happy shame..."

Draco laughed right along with her. Sometimes he forgot how ruthless his mother could be. "Daisy," he called for the house elf. "Please take my uncle to the dungeons and restrain him."

Daisy nodded and obediently did as he said. Once they were both gone Draco let out a sigh of relief.

"Shall we get going then?"

"Oh no," Narcissa said with a gentle shake of her head. "You will be going to see your wife."

Draco blinked twice. "I'm sorry?"

"Your wife, Draco." She repeated. "I want you to go see her and you won't come back home until Sunday morning."

"Mother, I… I can't let you do this alone."

"Yes, you will. You'll do it because Hermione thinks the world of you. I won't have her looking down on you for Tiberius' treatment nor will I have your conscience burdened by it." Narcissa smiled and rose from her chair. "There will be justice for the three us, I promise you. Don't forget that my chances of getting a family was threatened as well."

Draco sat in awe of her. There was very little to say -or to do for that matter. Instead he took a deep breath as he also got to his feet. "Make me proud, Mother."

"Always,"

And with that Narcissa walked along, humming a charming little tune -a key indicator at just how much she was looking forward to her plans for tonight as well as tomorrow. Draco was still hesitant on leaving. Not because he didn't think his mother could handle herself. She was _very_ capable of that. He just felt like he should be doing something.

Regardless, Draco set his feelings aside and headed to his suite. He packed a bag much like Hermione had, but he was in no way intending on spending a night in the Potter house. He would probably find a hotel for them to stay and take their minds off of things while his mother was busy.

When he was finished and his belongings shrunken to an easy-to-carry size and in his pocket, Draco stepped into the fireplace and called, "Potter residence!"

He tumbled out in a dignified manner right in the middle of a conversation between his wife, Ginny, and Harry. The latter seemed horrifically surprised to see him.

"Draco," Hermione greeted happily as she got up from the couch and hugged him. "What happened to entertaining your awful uncle?"

"Yes," Harry said from where he sat. " _What_ happened?"

"There's only so much of that man I can take." Draco told his wife. Then his gaze lingered on Harry when he added, "My mother's taking care of it."

Harry wasn't sure whether to feel alarmed or soothed by this, but he tried for the second option although he was still nervous. Draco, on the other hand, felt calmer being away from the Manor. He sat down next to his wife and joined in whatever conversation the three of them had been having before he arrived. Everything was fine, although he and Harry shared periodic glances full of unspoken things that had been missed by the redhead, but _not_ by the brunette.

"I'm going to go raid your kitchen for something to drink." Hermione announced as she got up. "Draco, can you help?"

"Sure,"

He followed her out of the living room and through the door that would lead to the kitchen. Draco was waiting for her to head to the refridgerator, but she did no such thing. Instead a hand was on her hip and the other with her wand.

"Alright," Hermione said once she had cast a Silencing Charm around them. "What's going on between you and Harry?"

Draco's heart quickened, but he didn't let on. "Sorry? I don't know-"

"Don't insult my intelligence, Mr. Malfoy. I saw you. You two keep _looking_ at each other. Not to mention the odd behavior with you both. Now, normally I'd rip into Harry about something like this, but seeing as _you're_ the one I'm sleeping with, I'll leave it to you. So? Are you going to tell me on your own or do I have to drag it out of you?"

Draco didn't want to tell her. The conversation between him and Harry when it was Theo in the hot seat was ringing in his ears. Even his mother had acknowledged that Hermione might think less of him concerning this.

His stomach was in absolute knots.

"Potter found out who cursed you."

Hermione's face fell. "He…he did? Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't _you?_ You know that I would've wanted to know."

"I know." Draco said as he took a tentative step towards her. "I know and I'm sorry, but there's a reason for keeping you in the dark."

"It damn well better be a good one."

"It was my uncle. Uncle Tiberius,"

Hermione's face had already fallen, but now her jaw had gone slack and fell open. "B-but he's at the Manor!"

"Yes," Draco nodded. "And that's why you had to leave. So that my mother could get revenge for us –for herself too."

His wife snapped her gaze to him quickly at that and he immediately felt even _more_ guilt-ridden by his confession.

"You can't kill him."

Draco sighed. "We would have liked to."

"And you'd be a fool if you did." Hermione said firmly. "To kill someone who's bound to be arrested. That means whatever blame on him would get turned around on you for lashing out."

"Hermione-"

"That means whatever Narcissa does –whatever _you've_ allowed her to do… It won't be enough."

Draco had been fully prepared to hear the rest of her scolding when he stared at her in shock. Her face was set in a distant stare, and her stare itself was…cold. And then she turned to him. It was evident that she wanted to cry, but she was holding back. Or better yet, she more angry than sad to actually shed tears.

"It won't be enough." She repeated. "Whatever you to do him will _never_ be enough."

Draco closed the space between them and pulled Hermione into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his midsection, and he held her close, his chin resting gently on the top of her head.

"You're right." He replied as he cradled her. "But if I say that what she's doing will finally let you sleep well at night, will that help?"

"...I think so, yes."

* * *

 **Author's note:** Not "Auror" Warren, but still someone we should hate lol. Certainly not the reaction Draco was expecting from Hermione, but one's mindset about things can definitely change in the face of tragedy.

-WP

Replies to Guests

 **Guest:** "I love how..." Thank you! I'm glad that the balance works :)

 **MrsGinPotter:** I'm glad that you liked the chapter :). I feel like Blaise is the epitome of a good friend. He suffered in silence for the sake of someone else. I just love him. Narcissa was my favorite in that chapter with just how she dealt with Hermione. She minced no words, and even when she was gentle she still had this "Malfoy-ness" about her. And yes, hopefully Hermione and Draco can still have children of their own. But they'll be great parents no matter how it happens.

 **Cookies:** First off, I love your penname so much lol. Thank you! I'm so happy that the first chapter captured you so much. Draco and Hermione are just THE epic couple. It's hard for me to find another that even comes close.


	45. A Malfoy Kind of Humility

Having Tiberius' face plastered on the front of the Daily Prophet had been a highlight for Hermione. Finding out who had been supplying and delivering the cursed items had been a highlight for the Ministry. It had turned out to be someone rather innocuous who had incredible skill with curses. The people who sought him out for his "services" were the real monsters and they had all been arrested.

That said, Tiberius had been interrogated endlessly about the curse and its nature. But before that he had been fully assessed by a private (and well-paid) Healer that Harry had wrangled. He had wanted to see what damage had been done before Aurors could get to him. On the outside he had looked perfectly fine. It was a great debate as to whether something had happened to him at all. However, Tiberius' insides were an absolute wreck. It was an advanced bit of magic. A hideously _dark_ piece of magic that had done a significant amount of damage but _wouldn't_ kill him. What made it worse for him was that he could say nothing about it –a bit like a Lip-Locker Curse. He couldn't tell of the pain he felt every time he breathed nor the sharp stabs every time he moved. Nothing. Tiberius would be in agony for the rest of his life.

As for the curse Tiberius had indirectly inflicted on Hermione, it had meant to completely obliterate her chances of having children and to not leave her any options. He had said in his interrogation, with obvious dismay, that Hermione had probably not held onto the frame long enough if surrogacy was still an option. Little did he know that the commissioner of the frame had made the curse at half effect (and therefore potentially removable) on purpose.

"He wanted me to harm _the_ Hermione Granger!" The man had said. "If the money hadn't been good I wouldn't have done it at all."

It turned out Hermione's fame was still good for something. Knowing all of this helped to push her and Draco forward, although both still grieved for what had been taken from them. But a preliminary visit to Healer Hasbrook and discussions on attempted curse removal had brightened their week although there was still a long haul to go. After more tests the following week, they would be speaking with Dr. Lonnegan (the squib), about his thoughts on the matter following Harry and Ginny's wedding.

And speaking of the Potter-Weasley wedding, Ginny was a frantic mess. Harry did his best to help and put his two sickles in (it was his wedding too after all) and tried to tell her that it was alright if they didn't do or have such and such. Stressed and somewhat temperamental, Ginny would frown bitterly and exclaim that she just wanted everything to be perfect for them. And so here they were, just eight days before the wedding, along with Hermione and Ron, trying to finalize what the centerpieces for the tables at the reception would be.

"What about these?" Harry asked, holding up what looked more like a depressing urn than a vase. Both Hermione and Ginny shared horrified looks before he acquiesced and put it down.

Ron went over to this awful multi-colored thing, but Ginny stopped him before he could put his hand on it.

"Honestly, Ron." She huffed. "How on _earth_ would that look as a centerpiece?!"

"That's it. I hate weddings." Ron said as he retreated from the shelf. Hermione laughed.

"Don't you want to get married one day?"

"Yes, of course, but I'm definitely not going to go banging my head against the wall trying to decide if _rose or fuchsia_ would look better."

"No, no, of course not." Ginny grinned maliciously. "That would be for Lavender to bang her head about."

Ron blushed. Yes, he and Lavender were still together. It boggled Hermione's (and everyone's) minds, but she was a newlywed to one Draco Malfoy so she was certainly not one to judge.

"At least you know what to expect." Harry smiled at him before showing Ginny something else and her shaking her head at it. Both he and Ron decided to venture deeper into the shoppe while Hermione and Ginny stayed where they were. It wasn't long before the bride-to-be was squealing.

"Hermione, look!" Ginny exclaimed as she ran over to a shelf and picked up a decorative candlestick set. "This would be the perfect! Don't you think?"

"You're right!" Hermione smiled. "You see? I told you that you'd find something."

"I know." The redhead beamed. "And it only costs…" She frowned as she stared at the base of her prized find. "Two eyes and my soul if I wanted to get enough of these."

"I'm sure it can't be _that_ bad." Hermione took the candlestick set from Ginny's hands and saw the price for herself. The only thing she could say was, "Oh."

It was more than pricey. It was absolutely ridiculous. At least for Ginny's wallet anyway. Harry's too in hindsight. She and Harry were saving up for a house since Godric's Hollow was to remain a memorial for Harry's parents and Grimmauld Place was too (to use Ginny's words) horrid to live in. That meant everything they bought and had been buying was on a severe budget. Hermione bit her tongue.

"Listen, if you really want them then I could-"

"No, no, no." Ginny quickly dismissed. "I love you and thank you, but I refuse to be that friend that hits up her rich best friend when she can't afford something." She sighed and continued to eye the candlestick set. "Even if it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Hermione frowned. "If you say so…"

"I do." Ginny replied and slipped the set from her friend's hands and put it back. "I'll just find something else."

* * *

"Stubborn, stubborn, and of course, stubborn," Draco droned on with his wife by his side. Hermione shook her head at him.

"Draco, there's nothing stubborn about not wanting to take money from someone. I felt absolutely terrible for even offering, but she really likes them."

Draco huffed. "So what did she actually end up getting?"

"A similar set to the one she wanted, but just a little less…"

"You mean a lot more ugly."

"The term is ugl _ier_ –not that I agree, just correcting grammar."

Draco suppressed a smirk, both at what she said and at how her mouth fell open at what she was seeing. After spending half the day with her friends, she had met him back at the Manor so that they could start their house hunt. The idea was to find a house and be all moved in by the beginning of March. So, bearing in mind his wife's requests, he had lined up three houses to see this evening. The one they were walking up to now looked even better to him the second time seeing it.

"Mr. Malfoy," the realtor, an enthusiastic and gentle-looking older woman greeted. "Mrs. Malfoy, a wonderful pleasure to meet you. My name is Agatha Tortley. Your husband speaks very highly of you."

Hermione worked her hardest not to blush. "Thank you. Also, thanks for taking the time out to show us this home today."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. So, if you'd like to get started, let's head right inside."

Ms. Tortley used her wand to open the door and once inside Hermione's jaw had dropped again. A high vaulted ceiling immediately met them along with a set of stairs. An archway to their left led to a living room and to their right a dining area. Down the hall ahead of them she could spy several doors, and she assumed at least one might be a bathroom, the others perhaps closet space.

"Seven bedrooms, two of them masters, one half bath, and three full baths," Ms. Tortley said proudly. "If you follow me through the dining area, you'll see that through here leads to the kitchen."

 _What a kitchen!_ Hermione thought to herself. Marble countertops, an island in the middle that housed a sink and plenty of cooking space. Black appliances such as the refrigerator, microwave, and stove looked lovely against the dark wood that made up the cabinets. There were two windows, just above the stove, and a glass door near the refrigerator that led to a small patio.

"Through this entrance you end up towards the end of the hall, see?" Ms. Tortley continued. "Ample closet space down here as well as the half bath. And then down _this_ particular hall you'll find one of the master bedrooms, two others, and a one full bath."

"Draco," Hermione hissed in a low tone. "I know I said six bedrooms and all that, but I'm beginning to think that my delirious, depressed side was the one talking. This is _massive!_ "

"I know." He replied joyously. "And to think, we haven't even seen the upstairs yet."

Upstairs held the remaining four bedrooms and two bathrooms. There was also a lounge for entertaining and a study. From three of the bedrooms the backyard could be seen - a _huge_ amount of property, but also another house roughly the same size of the one they were currently in.

"The guest house," Ms. Tortley answered Hermione's unspoken question. The latter turned to her husband who merely shrugged and grinned.

"My mother will be living with us, won't she? She'll want her own space, yet still be able to see us at a moment's notice. Hence, the house."

Hermione was in disbelief. It was so much. It was _too_ much. But she also loved it.

"And where's my library supposed to be?" She asked jokingly.

Draco smiled broadly at that. "I was hoping you would ask me about that."

Hermione blinked. "You're kidding. We've seen the whole house!"

"I asked Ms. Tortley to purposefully leave the basement out of the description." He said proudly. "Can I show her myself?" He addressed Ms. Tortley.

"Yes, yes, of course. I'll wait for you out back and then we'll visit the guest house."

Draco took his dumbfounded wife's hand and led her downstairs. There was a door that Hermione had assumed was just closet space, but it turned out to lead to the very basement that her husband had alluded to. They walked down an elegant set of stairs and was met with a space that was the full length and width of the house above. Empty and a few beams here or there for structural reasons, but all Hermione could imagine was what it would look like lined with nothing but bookshelves.

"I'd cast Disillusionment Charms on these," Draco said, his hand on one of the beams. "Another charm to keep you and other people from walking into them, naturally. So? What do you think of it?"

"Well, it's certainly a lot." Hermione chuckled. "It's breathtaking, truly. But do we really need all of this?"

"Let's think of it this way. Since the beginning of January, how many people came to visit us _daily?_ "

Hermione shook her head and grinned, knowing exactly where he was getting at. At least three people a day. If she accounted for an entire week and didn't name someone twice, it was ten to fifteen. If she accounted for the times where some spent the night…

"Oh alright, fine, yes. The extra space would be a good idea. Tell me –the other two homes you have lined up for today? Are they both just as big as this?"

Draco eyes lit up in amusement. "Bigger,"

Hermione laughed as she went over and hugged him around the midsection. "Rich brat,"

"Rich brat's wife," he replied, and kissed her on the forehead.

* * *

Since Hermione was _in_ Harry and Ginny's wedding, Draco came to a chilling conclusion: he would have to sit among the guests alone. It wasn't that he needed company. He was a grown man, could handle being alone just fine, and had been doing so post-war. Granted, he had been a bit depressed after the war, but the main assertion still stood. What he meant by alone was that he wouldn't be around anyone he was truly comfortable with. Aside from his wife, his own friends weren't close enough to the bride and groom to warrant an invitation, Hermione's parents (who had been invited) sadly had to decline because of a trip they had booked long before a date had been set, and the bride and groom couldn't be guests at their own wedding.

Draco couldn't help but snort at the last notion. When in Merlin's name did Harry Potter and Ginny Soon-to-be-Potter become tier one preferred company? He rolled his eyes which didn't go unnoticed by his wife who had just come out into the living room dressed and ready to go.

"I saw that." She smiled. "Who are you internally damning?"

"No one," he lied before he laid his eyes on her. His lips immediately turned up when he saw her. She was dressed in a deep violet gown that clung neatly to her waist and flowed gently down to the floor. Her hair was pulled back and held by a violet clip, modest yet elegant makeup applied, and silver bracelets on her wrists to accompany her earrings and necklace. He stood and gave a low whistle.

"So, do I look alright?"

"You look just as beautiful as you did on our wedding day."

Hermione was thankful for the natural blush on her cheeks. "And here I was just looking for a yes." She chuckled.

Draco laughed and went over to take her hand. "The day I start giving you one-word answers to questions like that we should worry about our marriage. Come on, we should get going."

The pair of them headed for the Floo after making sure Anti-Soot Spells were properly applied. The wedding was going to be held at the Burrow like Bill and Fleur's. Nothing could beat the intimacy that a wedding at home could produce. That and the fact Harry and Ginny had made a _killing_ in savings by not having it somewhere else.

"I'm going to head upstairs to see Ginny." Hermione said once they made it through the fireplace. "She's probably going mad up there."

"Fair enough." Draco nodded. "I'll gather you once the ceremony is over."

Hermione agreed and kissed him before hearing the frustrated grumblings of the bride-to-be upstairs. Draco watched his wife disappear before it sunk in that he was at _the Burrow_ without his witch as a buffer. Fantastic…

"Draco!"

A smile immediately graced his face at the familiar voice as well as an internal pang when he saw Victoire running from, he assumed, outside where the wedding would be taking place.

"Well, hello…" he greeted.

"I'm in the wedding just like for you and Aunt Hermione!" Victoire exclaimed with glee as she showed off her flower girl dress. "Teddy is too!"

"I know." Draco commented. "And might I say that you look very pretty."

The little girl's face reddened and she grinned. "Thank you. Will you dance with me again?"

"Of course. As many times as you want."

Victoire was bursting with glee and hugged him on the leg. Draco had several emotions running through him at that –most of them unpleasant. _Damn Uncle Tiberius…_

"Victoire, love, you're going to break his leg." Molly addressed the girl as she came into the room. "Let go now and head outside with the others."

"Bye Uncle Draco!" Victoire said as she ran out.

Draco stood momentarily stunned at the title, but he supposed it was natural if his wife was "Aunt Hermione." He took a deep breath and suddenly realized that Ginny's mother was still there.

"She likes you, you know." Molly said. "That girl won't give you a moment's peace today."

"I sort of figured." Draco chuckled. "To my surprise kids seem to like me."

Molly caught the far off look in his eyes as he said that and she frowned. He may have noticed that he had been doing something off because he immediately cleared his throat. She had briefly considered addressing it, but seeing as he had brushed it off so quickly she decided not. Instead she broached something else.

"Ginny woke up to a mass delivery this morning."

Draco's smile was back and it was even broader than before. "Did she?"

"Yes," Molly replied, detecting a hint of smugness from him. "It was candlestick sets. Tons of them. Ginny spent a majority of the morning in utter disbelief and then fretting about not wanting to be a charity."

"Leave it to her to fret about a good thing." Draco scoffed. He quickly regretted it after remembering that he was talking to the woman's mother, but Molly ignored it.

"Then she and the rest of us helped her use them as her centerpieces for the reception instead of the ones she bought."

Draco kept his contentment at that on the inside. "Good for her."

"Very," Molly agreed as some tears sprung to her eyes. She blinked them back as she continued. "She was also owled a note from Gringotts. It said that _an anonymous banker_ transferred money into her and Harry's account. Oddly enough it was the same amount for what she had spent on her _other_ centerpieces. It's a wonder how he –or she –managed to find that bit of information out."

"Oh you can find out just about anything with the right connections." Draco said automatically. He paused and then added, "That's probably what he –or she –did."

"I suppose so." Molly beamed. Then she took him by surprise and hugged him. "Thank you for what you did for her."

Draco let Molly get her hugs out before he replied as innocently as possible, "I agree it was a nice gesture, but I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."

Molly laughed. "Yes, of course you don't." She sighed happily and hooked her arm with his. "Come, we should get our seats. You'll sit by me and Arthur."

* * *

 **Author's note:** I have too many favorites here! However, I think Draco getting Ginny that centerpiece tops it :)

-WP

Replies to Guests

 **Guest:** Thank you! Glad that you liked it!

 **Liza:** Yes, it is. As for how much longer it'll be, I can't even begin to tell you. There's quite a bit more I want to touch on before it's over.


	46. Power Shifts

"Explain to me why I, who's not your husband or even a secret lover, am helping you unpack and arrange your house?" Ron asked as he unloaded a box of kitchenware. Hermione, who was magically hanging a painting on the wall (she now had a thing about handling frames), laughed and turned to him when she was done.

"Because Draco's at work and since I don't go back until next week I want to finish it up."

"And?"

"And because Frizzle's helped enough and I wanted to give him a break no matter how much he keeps insisting."

"And?"

"And because you're my best friend and you love me."

" _And?_ Come on, keep going."

Hermione groaned and walked over to him. "And because you were the only one who had a day off today."

Ron grinned. "Ah, there it is."

Hermione elbowed him in the side and he juggled the dish in his hand so he didn't drop it. It was the last day in February and she and Draco had chosen the first house they had seen. Her husband, the little devil or _snake_ as he was, knew very well that she wouldn't have liked any of the other houses. One had nine bedrooms and the other twelve. Seven had already boggled her mind, so why in Merlin's name would she opt for more? And so the next day they had closed on it. By the end of the following week they had gone furniture shopping and had spent the time between then and now when Draco was home to get the house in order. Usually it was Hermione arranging everything, then him nitpicking and reorganizing at night. He did, however, managed to set up bookshelves in the basement for her library. Eventually they came to a compromise and now the house was pretty much set with the exception of little odds and ends that Ron was helping her with now.

"When are you guys having the house warming?"

"End of the month maybe?" Hermione shrugged. "We haven't talked about it just yet. So much has been going on between getting the house, setting it up, and all those St. Mungo's visits."

Ron frowned a little. "Anything promising yet?"

"Tons of counter-curses, a possible surgery within the next two weeks, and this horrible daily tonic that I have to drink."

"You would there'd be a counter-curse now that you know who cursed you."

Hermione scoffed. "If only. But curses meant for irreparable damage don't have any. The only thing we can do is deal with what's been done. –Oh! I've also been encouraged to throw out every contraceptive potion that I own. I gave them to Ginny though. No point in wasting them."

"No contraceptives huh? Well, as much as I can't believe I'm saying it, but I hope you and Malfoy are having sex like deprived Azkaban inmates."

Hermione doubled over in hysterics. She had to put down the dining room table set she had been hovering before she broke them. " _What?_ "

"I'm serious. Think about it. What if one of the methods works? Do you really want a potion stopping you from getting knocked up?"

"Very poetic, Ron." Hermione shook her head at him. "But yes, I agree. So…I guess it's just a matter of hoping for the best. In the meantime, I think I've figured out something to occupy my time other than work."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," she smiled broadly. "I want to open up an orphanage."

Ron blinked. He was surprised at her desire, but proud of her nonetheless. He leaned his forward on the kitchen island –despite Hermione's disapproving look –and grinned.

"That's a really good idea, Hermione."

"You really think so?" She said with hope in her voice. Ron nodded. "Good. I do admit it's a bit of an emotionally driven idea, but I've come to appreciate children just a bit more considering the circumstances."

"As well you should. Children are a gift. Even…when they surprise you."

Hermione paused. She observed her best friend's tone of voice, his tense shoulders, the way he kept averting his eyes… She suddenly gasped and placed her hands on the other side of the island.

"How far along is she?"

"Fourteen weeks,"

Her jaw dropped. " _Fourteen?_ Ronald Weasley, I could throttle you!"

"I'm sorry! I really am!" Ron apologized. "Lavender and I found out around New Year's, and then there was your accident and then… _the news._ I didn't want to be insensitive."

Hermione could've hexed him, but she had better self-control than that. Surprisingly. Instead she sighed and shook her head at him.

"I appreciate it, I really do. However, I'm perfectly capable of being happy for someone else despite my misfortune. Merlin, I'm not the only who doesn't know, am I?"

"No, no one knows." He reassured her. "We weren't sure if we could trust everyone to keep their big mouths shut – _particularly_ Ginny. We were planning on telling everyone next week anyway. She swears she's already starting to show a little, and I quote, _pudge._ "

Hermione couldn't help her chuckle at the prospect of a baby being called a "pudge."

"Well, thank you for letting me be the first to know." She smiled. Then she asked cautiously, "You _are_ happy about this, aren't you? You and Lavender haven't been together long and obviously this wasn't at all planned."

Ron anxiously rubbed his left arm. "Nope, definitely not planned. But I don't think it would be right of me to be upset when the opportunity should be celebrated."

"Naturally, I agree. Now come here," Hermione said happily as she walked around the island counter to give him a proper hug and congratulations. "I'm really happy for you, Ron."

 _I'm really happy for you, Ron._

She should've won an award for that because in truth? She felt really bloody awful.

* * *

Draco stopped by to see his mother after work. She had been particularly happy lately, and once he had stepped foot in her personal parlor room he understood why.

"Merlin, Mother," he exclaimed as he skimmed through parchment after parchment of notes Narcissa had written down for her future new home. So that she could prepare, Draco had sent her a schematic of the house as well as detailed photographs of the interior so that she could get what she needed accordingly. By the looks of this list, she was _clearly_ enjoying herself in that regard.

"I have a six-bedroom home to decorate." Narcissa replied with a smile. "I have to make sure all the essentials are there before August."

Draco let a brow rise neatly into the air as he gestured to the parchment papers in his hands. " _This_ is an example of the essentials?"

Narcissa tutted. "Oh no, of course not. Those are merely things that I want." She then gestured to her work desk. " _Those_ are the essentials."

The blond young man shook his head and gave in as he handed the parchment pieces back to her. "If you say so."

"I do." She answered brightly. "Oh, and Hermione told me of her idea of opening up an orphanage. It's wonderful, really. Not only is it tremendously altruistic, but can you just imagine the positive light that it will shine on us?"

"And you think my marrying a muggleborn didn't do the trick?" Draco answered somewhat cheekily, however he understood his mother's point. "At least with Uncle Tiberius locked away the media has stopped accusing me of foul play."

"True. Although the fact that that horrid sentiment was out in the air at all is disconcerting. I won't give anyone the opportunity to slander us."

"I see…" Draco took a moment to sit down across from his mother and observe her. There was a sneaky glint in her eye and he knew what that meant. "Let me guess. You have a way to make that happen, yes?"

"Perhaps," Narcissa said coyly. "Hermione will need a location big enough for her orphanage, won't she?"

"She will."

"Well, why not have it here?"

Draco sat up straighter than he already had been (polished posture and all that). He really needed to clarify what he thought his mother was implying. "Here? By 'here,' you actually mean _here?_ As in the Manor?"

"Why not?" Narcissa countered. "The Manor will be empty once I've moved out of it, and what are we to do? Let it rot? _Sell it?_ Merlin forbid. Hermione can use it to fill its rooms with as many children as she wishes _and_ we have the added benefit of having a glowing review in the Daily Prophet and other media outlets."

Draco couldn't help but grin smugly at his mother's phrasing and leaned back in his seat. "Controlling the media is the added benefit, is it?"

Narcissa eyed her son warily. "Yes. And?"

"Nothing," he waved dismissively. "It's just nice to know that you thought of Hermione and her needs first despite how you previously outlined your agenda."

Narcissa pursed her lips and reached for tea that she _didn't_ have only to retract her hands to her lap. Draco laughed and stood.

"It's alright, Mother." He said as he gave her a kiss on the cheek. "It's not the end of the world to care for your daughter-in-law and show it."

His mother resisted an unladylike eye roll and called for a house elf to bring her some tea. "Just tell Hermione that the first step to her orphanage is completed will you?"

"Will do."

* * *

Every day when Draco returned from work it felt more and more like home. There was always new things put up, assembled, and arranged, and today, somehow without actually walking through the entire house, it _finally_ felt like it was all finished. He grinned like a kid who had just had his fill at the candy store and left the study. He and Hermione had decided that that would be where close friends and family would come through instead of risking permanent soot stains in the living room downstairs. Once he had taken off his cloak and left it in his bedroom he called for his wife. Luckily they had had a presence of mind to cast a spell to amplify voices when trying to find one another.

"Living room!" Hermione called back. Draco found her just where she said she'd be and wasn't surprised in the slightest at the sight of her –on the couch, feet tucked under her, and a book in her hands.

"Well, look at you settled in all nicely."

She looked up from her book and beamed. "Now that the house is completely finished why shouldn't I be settled?"

"Very true." He replied as he sat down next to her. "I just came from seeing my mother. By the looks of it she's bought out every piece of furniture known to man."

Hermione giggled behind her book and stuck her thumb in it to mark her place. "She does realize that she has five months to prepare, right?"

"Oh, but we mustn't forget that she's decorating a six-bedroom home." Draco quoted his mother. He laughed at his mother's lavishness and continued to grin as he took Hermione's free hand. "She's going to make sure everything is absolutely _perfect_ before she gets to move in come August."

"Has she decided what she'll do with the Manor?"

"Ideally she could hand over the deed to anyone she sees fit. And that's exactly what she's done –once you sign all of the proper paperwork, of course."

Hermione dropped her book. "Sorry?"

Draco quite loved surprising this woman. She had an air of innocence about her when being gifted things she couldn't have fathomed receiving.

"She's giving you the Manor." He elaborated. "She wants you to use it for your orphanage."

The brunette's mouth fell open. Her husband was now laughing at _her_ expense and used the curve of his finger to close her mouth. That didn't stop her jaw from slipping again though.

"That… I can't believe… _Really?_ "

Draco nodded. "Yes. The Manor will have to be _thoroughly_ spell-checked, of course. Rooms warded so that they can't be opened. A couple portraits to either be destroyed or permanently silenced. Maybe even removed. But in the end, it could house an infinite amount of children there."

"It could do even more than that!" Hermione said excitedly. "It could help families in need. Maybe a part of the Manor could be a school –you know, teaching the essentials until the children are old enough for Hogwarts. Oh, Draco, think of possibilities!"

Draco's lips were far too wide for his face at this point. "I take it you're pleased?"

"Pleased?" Hermione repeated, her happiness absolutely overwhelming and contagious. She had risen from the couch and was standing in front of him as she pointed to her face. "Does this face look _pleased_ to you? 'Pleased' is far too soft of a word to describe how _ecstatic_ I am!"

Draco felt the couch rock back as Hermione practically jumped on this lap (thankfully without hurting his precious bits) and began kissing him everywhere.

"Thank you!" She kissed his lips. "Thank you!" His forehead. "Thank you!" Both cheeks.

Draco was in a fit of laughter in between every kiss she gave him. "You know, you should actually be thanking my mother. I'm just the messenger."

Hermione pulled back and grinned mischievously. "I _highly_ doubt that you want me to thank your mother in the same way I plan on thanking you."

His face lit up. "Well, if that's the case, thank away!"

Perhaps it was a bad idea to apparate while laughing, but they did anyway –right up to their bedroom so that Hermione could "thank" him properly.

* * *

Hermione's first week back at work had annoying, to say the least. It was bad enough that people kept coming up to her and saying, "Sorry for what happened," or "At least it wasn't worse." It wasn't even the glances her coworkers kept shooting at her. No, the icing on the cake had been someone who _actually_ had the audacity to tell her that Draco should be in Azkaban for what he did to her. She had been moments away from hexing the person when Travers, to her _complete_ surprise had defended her husband. He had been on his way up to see her as he'd been over the moon to have the one and only person who knew Ancient Runes back in the office. Draco did tell her that his partner had been less vile lately, but she couldn't have imagined that it was to such an extent.

That had rounded out her stress-inducing week to a decent one. What had turned it into a happier one was watching Narcissa sign away the deed to Malfoy Manor and Hermione signing her acceptance to it. To celebrate, Hermione was with her friends while Draco was trying to convince his mother that she didn't need twenty house elves in her new home.

"Ole Lucius must be cursing up a storm in Azkaban." Ron laughed. They were all sitting in the lounge upstairs and munching on a lovely array of finger foods that Frizzle had brought them. "Not only is his precious home going to be overrun with kids and needy families, but it's going to be solely owned by a muggleborn. Merlin, I wish I could see his face."

"I'm actually quite surprised Narcissa was able to give it to you." Ginny mused. "Being the 'Malfoy' Manor and all, I figured only Lucius would be able to have a final say on what happens with it."

"Well unlike his predecessors, Lucius thought ahead with his wife in mind. The war might have had something to do with that now that I think about. The Manor is in her name too. Apparently he had a contract made so that in the event of his imprisonment everything in both of their names would become hers. That said, Narcissa was well within her rights to give it to me."

"What about things just in Lucius' name?" Harry asked.

"They go to Draco when he turns twenty-five."

"Merlin, that's just a few years off, isn't it?"

"Two years,"

Ron gave a low whistle. "Not that I care, but that's a bit sad for the old man, don't you think? If Lucius somehow gets parole in the future he's going to be wandless in a sealed room, so to speak. Hermione's got the Manor and the rest of his stuff is split between his wife and kid. He'll basically own nothing."

Ron's astute moments always left Hermione swelling with pride –not to mention in deep thought. He was absolutely right. And, to take it one step further, the day that Narcissa passed on everything would go to Draco. Even further than that, Draco had told her recently that he'd had a will drawn up. Hermione had been mortified at the thought, but so he explained, being who they were _and_ targeted, it was best and that she should get one too. She hadn't yet nor was she in a rush to do so although he had a good point. Regardless, he told her that in the event of his death that she would get everything. What if both events, Merlin forbid, happened tomorrow? Next week? A few years from now? _Everything_ that had once stood (and in most people's view still did) as a pinnacle symbol for pureblood society would be in the hands of a muggleborn.

Hermione could laugh at the irony.

And she did.

* * *

 **Author's note:** I can't remember who, but I think I remember someone saying that Hermione should do something with orphans. This orphanage idea had always been in the works in terms of writing it, so here it is! And then there's Ron. Well, congrats to him :)

-WP

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 **jackie:** Thank you so much! This chapter was such fun for me to write. It was the little things –especially Victoire. Draco and Hermione will definitely make it through :)

 **Karlie:** Me too! Me too! I just want to hug him.

 **Guest:** Thanks! Hope that you liked this chapter too!

 **Dindore:** I just loved how innocent Draco was trying to be during the whole exchange with Molly. And him and Victoire...bittersweet is definitely a good way to describe it. Haha, your hints. Just have to wait and see!


	47. Even If It Hurts

March had come and gone in the blink of an eye. There had been Hermione and Draco's housewarming out in the backyard and it had been _crowded_ beyond measure. It was unfortunate that Narcissa couldn't attend physically, but she had had the time of her life planning it from afar. A healthy dose of magic allowed a muggle-like hologram of her to still see and enjoy the festivities which she had terribly grateful for.

The week after that Ron and Lavender told everyone that they were expecting a little bundle of joy towards the end of August. That night Hermione cried and no one outside of Draco could sympathize with how she felt, and no one outside of Narcissa knew why both of them had called out of work the next day.

The rest of the month saw to Hermione getting an enormous head start on her orphanage. Having friends inside the Ministry was a huge asset. Being a Malfoy doubled it. However, despite Draco's and Narcissa's nudging, Hermione was _not_ going to use her name or status to get what she wanted simply because she could. She was regretting it slightly as April reared its head and slowly slipped by as she sat in her partially-filled library with millions of paperwork and law books on how to properly get her project going.

"You're going to sleep down here again, aren't you?" Draco mused as he walked down the stairs and spotted his wife where she had been for several nights. Hermione looked up, sighed, and stretched.

"Not my fault you put extremely comfortable couches down here." Hermione replied with a grin. Draco chuckled and sat down at the table with her.

"Are you going to cave yet?" He gestured to the parchment. Hermione groaned and lowered her head to rest on the table.

"No,"

"Sure?"

"No,"

Draco laughed and rubbed her back. "I _can_ help with some of the paperwork, you know. You don't have to do it all by yourself."

Hermione raised her head and smiled. "I know. In fact, while you're down here there is something that I'd love for you to fill out with me."

"Of course. What is it?"

"Well," she began as she shifted mountains of work. "This _is_ a momentous endeavor. The board that I have to present and give all of this information to wants to make sure that whoever is running it is fully capable-"

"Which you are,"

Hermione beamed. "Thank you. But, a little birdie told me that scales would tip greatly into my favor if I didn't own the orphanage on my own. That said, if you could sign on as co-owner I'd love you ten times more than I already do."

Draco stared wide-eyed at the pieces of parchment she was sliding over to him as well as a muggle pen. "You want _me_ to co-own the orphanage with you?"

She nodded and smiled broadly. "Why so surprised?"

"I guess in my head I've always considered this _your_ project. Tacking my name onto it never once came across my mind."

"I married you." She said simply. "Your name is tacked on by default."

Draco cracked a small smile. She did have a point. He took the pen from her and his eyes latched onto where he had to sign his name. The pen was hovering over the line, but he couldn't bring himself to let ink flow from it.

"My being co-owner won't hurt you, will it?"

Hermione frowned. "How so?"

"Somehow I'm thinking putting the precious lives of children directly under Malfoy care might scare away a person or two."

To his surprise, Hermione laughed. She ran her fingers through his pristine hair, completely ruining it, but in a good way. "The way you care about me is wonderful. Have I told you that lately?"

Draco closed his eyes, absolutely falling at ease under her tender touches.

"Sometimes I think you forget that 'Malfoy' is my last name too." She told him softly. "And if people want Hermione 'Granger' they're not going to find her. The personality is still the same, sure, but Malfoy things are there too. Including _you._ So," she said as she pulled her hand away and gestured her husband's hand to the parchment. "You'll be co-owner. And to ease any further worries, I still have to add a beneficiary in case something should happen to either of us."

"Who did you have in mind?"

"Harry. If that's not a safety net for any stiffnecked board members then I don't know what is."

Draco nodded, finally signing his name. "Definitely,"

* * *

Draco woke up to an incessant tapping on his and Hermione's bedroom window. He had been very determined to ignore it, but with one cracked eye he realized that it was Blaise's. It was the _only_ reason that he got up to answer it. In the end he was glad. And also slightly anxiety-stricken. He was deeply considering whether or not to heed his best friend's advice at the bottom of the letter, but he didn't want to do that. Blaise was his friend. He wanted to be there for him and so he'd go. Even if it hurt.

"Hermione," he whispered as he gently shook her awake. " _Hermione,_ "

"Hm?"

"Blaise owled me. Liliana, she's… She's having their baby now."

That last bit woke her up. Hermione rolled over in bed, eyes fully alert and filled with an array of emotions that was probably in his just the same.

"You don't have to go."

That simple sentence lifted a weight off of Hermione. She could've easily taken the opportunity and ran with it, but instead she swallowed and shook her head. "No. We're their friends and…we should be there."

Draco nodded. "Okay."

They both got dressed, neither lazily nor excitedly, but dressed anyway. When they got to St. Mungo's they were directed to an area where they could sit and wait and were told that Blaise would be alerted to their arrival. The couple dumbly nodded and waited, Hermione on one of the chairs while Draco stood and leaned against the wall.

"How long has she been in labor for?" Hermione asked after what felt like a millenia. Draco shrugged.

"I don't know."

"...She could be in labor for hours." She continued. "Or days,"

Draco quirked his brow. "Did you just say _days?_ "

Hermione chuckled. "Having a baby isn't nearly as easy as making one."

Those words hit her hard -Draco too, as far as she could tell. Luckily they were public and so bawling their eyes out was less likely.

"Be honest with me." Draco said as he turned to her. "Do you think the treatments are working?"

"Well, it's been about two months." Hermione sighed. "Healer Hasbrook and Dr. Lonnegan are putting in a joint effort now and they're saying positive things…"

"But?"

"The most I can say is that my hormones are all shot to hell and I hardly have a regular menstrual cycle anymore."

"Do you want the treatments to stop?"

"No. I mean, at least not yet. We can them up until I can get the orphanage to a certain point since that has most of my attention right now anyway. And if there's no definitive changes by then, we can look into adoption. Deal?"

Draco smiled. "Deal."

Hermione smiled back, satisfied that a portion of their lives seemed settled. Or as settled as it could be for the moment. They both drifted into silence then. Draco sat down eventually and they even fell asleep. When they woke up it was daylight and they met Blaise's ecstatic face.

Draco yawned. "Merlin… Is that the face Liliana wakes up to every morning?"

" _Draco_ ," Hermione admonished with a grin before turning to Blaise. "Well?"

"Little Giana Carolina Zabini is in the world."

Draco was the first one to his feet and giving him a hug. "Congrats, Blaise. I hope she's nothing like you."

Blaise laughed. "You know what? I hope that too."

"Can we see her and Liliana?" Hermione asked. Blaise gave her an appreciative smile. He knew how hard that was to say, much less something to do.

"Of course. Follow me."

Hermione slipped her hand in Draco's and they both followed him down the corridor. Their grip on each other's hands was verging on the point of cutting off circulation, but neither cared. The tension was moderately relieved when they finally got to Liliana's room and she greeted them with the happiest expression. Giana was in her arms and the wave of emotions that hit them both was staggering, but they held up well.

Hermione quite surprised her husband (as well as herself) when she asked to hold her. Liliana was more than glad to do so while Draco stood from a generous distance and watched.

"She's so small." Draco said after a while.

"Smaller than I thought she'd be." Blaise agreed. "And yet still a healthy eight pounds."

"It was the Italian food." The blond said cheekily. " _Definitely_ the food."

Blaise playfully bumped him in the shoulder. "Git,"

"That's _Uncle_ Git to you."

"Fair enough. You know," Blaise paused for a moment. "Liliana wants Hermione to be Giana's godmother. Think she'll say yes?"

Draco didn't answer right away. Instead he just stared at his wife, overcome with utter excitement at the little girl in her arms. He couldn't help the upturn of his lips. "Absolutely,"

"Good. Get cracking on baby proofing the house."

"I'll get right on that."

* * *

"I don't think I've ever been so happy to burn something." Draco said as he stared at the fireplace in the parlor room at Malfoy Manor. His mother was standing next to him and agreed with a nod.

"They were hideous on top of that." Narcissa added. "But at least there'll be no more scoldings down the halls. And the rest of the less innocuous portraits?"

"In a private storage facility. I'll be sure to give you a copy of the key so that you can take and hang any you like in your house."

"Wonderful," she smiled before sitting down and urging Draco to do the same. "Now, was that the last of what had to be done?"

"The very last, thank Merlin." Draco breathed.

His words could never properly describe how _ecstatic_ he was that they were finally done with the Manor's restoration. It was the middle of May now and he had spent the past month and a half with his mother and the house elves going through room after room cataloging _everything_. Once that had been finished it was all about determining what was dangerous (which turned out to be quite a lot), destroying or giving away what they could, sealing rooms, and finally getting rid of old family portraits. It probably could've been done much quicker with more help (Hermione's words), but Draco would be damned to let her go near _anything_ that belonged to anyone named Malfoy. One curse was bad enough. Luckily, he and his mother were finished. It was just in time too since Hermione was scheduled to go in front of the board members of the Ministry's nonprofit sector next week. With the Manor set, she could have someone inspect the place by the end of the week.

"How's little Giana?" Narcissa asked. Draco smiled. Yes, it still hurt, but the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth was quite involuntary.

"Making Blaise, and I quote, uglier by the day when his sleep is interrupted."

Narcissa laughed. "Oh yes, infants are very adept at that." She paused for a moment before asking, "And how's Hermione on that front?"

Draco bit the inside of his jaw. His mother, sensing his hesitation, took the opportunity to ask a house elf for tea and a few pastries. By the time they came, her son indulged in both before finally replying.

"Hermione wants to stop the treatments." Draco said. "They're starting to take their toll on her and she needs a break. She might start them back again, but just later."

Narcissa's eyes widened. " _Might?_ What do you mean, 'might?'"

"Exactly that. I'm not going to force her to do something that she doesn't want to do."

"And what do _you_ want?"

Draco shrugged. "For life to be a little less hard? If not that, it's for Hermione to be happy in everything she does. She managed to un-sink _my_ disaster of a life, so I'll do the same for her. What?" He added as he stared at his mother. She was just sitting there, smiling softly, and perhaps a little teary-eyed.

"Oh nothing," she waved dismissively as she dabbed at the corner of her eye. "You've just… Sometimes I forget just how much you've matured."

Draco grinned. "Well, I can't stay a young, spoiled brat forever. Hermione would leave me."

Narcissa tutted while Draco laughed. They sat and talked about something a little less bleak before Draco got up and headed home. When he entered the fireplace he found Hermione walking into the room, a light jacket in one hand and awkwardly using her other hand to slip on her shoes.

"Excellent timing!" Hermione exclaimed as she jiggled to get her shoes on. "Grab the Floo pot. We're heading out."

Draco furrowed his brow. "To where?"

"Margie's Home for the Disadvantage," she smiled. "I have a Ministry friend who's an absolute _angel_ and told me that I could meet with Margie -the owner. I'll have a better chance with the board members next week if there's already interest in my orphanage. Margie's struggling and doesn't know how long she can keep hers up, _so_ that's where we come in!"

Draco hadn't seen Hermione this excited since he told her his mother was giving her the Manor. He certainly wasn't one to squash her happiness and so he allowed her to take a handful of Floo Powder, pull him into the fireplace, and whisk them away to the failing orphanage that, apparently, already had a Floo connection to their house. On the other end of the Floo was a house not too dissimilar to their own, although bigger. The other difference was the sound of children.

"Mrs. Malfoy? Mr. Malfoy?"

The couple turned to find a woman close (perhaps older) to Narcissa's age heading away from the shouts of kids and towards them. A bit short and stocky and glasses to boot, but she radiated warmth without even having to say much.

"Margie, yes?" Hermione greeted as she gave her her hand. "Thank you so much for meeting us."

"Oh no, thank _you_ for meeting me." Margie said happily, turning to shake Draco's hand after hers. "I'm very much grateful. And you've come at a good time too -all of the children are having dinner so we can talk while they're busy. I do have to check on one of the newer children as we go, if you don't mind."

"No, please, go right ahead." Hermione urged and they all began to walk throughout the home.

"It's not much." Margie said during the tour of various playrooms. "We care for twenty-two children up to the age of fifteen. Six of them are at Hogwarts right now, but will return here for the summer once the term ends in the next few weeks. Ample house elves to keep things in shape and two Healer-trained witches on staff. The children eat like kings and queens here -breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks in between."

"You seem to have everything pretty organized here." Hermione praised. "And you're _struggling?_ "

Margie shrugged. They had just toured the whole bottom floor and were now heading upstairs. "Looks can be deceiving. With everything we offer we need money to make sure it stays properly operational. Sadly, that's not the case anymore."

"Tell us then," Draco began. "Why choose to give up the orphanage? Why not try to get funds to keep it going?"

"Tried it." Margie frowned. "But neither Gringotts nor the Ministry will help. Granted, I expected a 'no' from those greedy little goblins, but the Ministry? I had hoped for better."

"That _is_ disconcerting." Hermione joined her frown.

"Very. But, when Matilda told me what you were doing Mrs. Malfoy, it struck me that turning things over to you might be a good idea. As much as getting the funds to help would excite me, at my age keeping this up will only get harder. I'd like to do something about it before it's too late."

"Understandable. And call me, Hermione, please."

Margie nodded happily. "Of course."

The three of them had made it upstairs and were taking looks into the children's bedrooms and other facilities that were up there. Hermione could imagine just how noisy upstairs must be when the children weren't eating. However, there was a deafening sound echoing down the halls and Margie quickened her steps until she reached one of the rooms further down the hall.

"This one's new." Margie said as she opened the door. The room was a nursery of sorts, although there was only one infant there. He was crying his little heart out, but even then he looked adorable. And by his size, it was evident that he had been born fairly recently.

"Three weeks," Margie confirmed when Hermione asked. "His mother died shortly after birthing him unfortunately. Lived long enough just to give him a first name. Aiden."

Hermione slipped her hand into Draco's and he squeezed it. Babies and the topic of them were swimming practically everywhere as of late. Between Blaise and Liliana having Giana and Ron and Lavender expecting, it was rather unavoidable. Draco looked on as Margie picked Aiden up and summoned a pre-pepped bottle from the corner of the room. The boy was, he had to admit, very sweet-looking. A barely there, but still tanned complexion with brown, curly hair to match Hermione's. Draco was pleasantly surprised to find that the baby's eyes were grey. It was almost like...he could be... _theirs._

Draco cleared his throat and looked down to the ground. Hermione noticed and rubbed his arm.

"You okay?"

He turned to her and smiled. "Fine. Perfectly fine,"

* * *

 **Author's note:** I think the title of the chapter sums it all up. Some filler, but very much necessary for future chapters :). You'll also notice that lapses in time will happen throughout the rest of the story. I really want this story to span a good portion of Draco and Hermione's lives, hence time jumps :).

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 **Guest:** Thanks! Hope that you liked this chapter!

 **Tessica1:** Thank you so much :). I'm really glad that you like my characters!


	48. Achieving Goals

Hermione sat in a chair in the middle of the room. She had begun tapping her foot repeatedly, but one look from Draco made her stop immediately.

"An orphanage, Mrs. Malfoy? You are a heroine to the Wizarding World, a Senior Magical Researcher here at the Ministry, swimming in wealth untold, and you want to open up _an orphanage?_ Why?"

Hermione swallowed. No, this wasn't the real hearing, but Lydia -wearing official-looking robes, a stern expression on her face, and looking down on her like she was a pest -had made everything seem official enough. Throw in Blaise with an attitude to make Salazar Slytherin proud, and Narcissa acting...well, like herself except a lot less cordial, then this would more or less be like what the real hearing would be.

Draco had thought it to be a good idea if she ran through her pitch a couple times beforehand. Hermione was going to ask Harry, Ron, and Ginny to run down questions with her, but her darling husband had shot that down in a second.

"You need people who aren't going to baby you." He had told her. Hence why Lydia, formerly a Rosier, Blaise, ex-Voldemort supporter, and Narcissa, ex-supporter _and_ current wife and mother to former Deatheaters, were all posing as board members. Although Hermione wouldn't dare let on, it was absolutely intimidating.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Quite simply? Children are a gift. After my recent misfortunes in that regard, I've decided to take it upon myself to help children who have no families. Everyone needs someone, and I intend on making that a reality."

Lydia wrinkled her nose. "How... _noble_ of you." She then turned to sit down and Narcissa stood.

"Exactly where do you hope to hold this orphanage of yours?"

"Malfoy Manor," Hermione said, straightening her back a little to seem more important. "It has more than adequate space to hold an infinite amount of children there."

"Oh yes, I imagine so." Narcissa said with disinterest. "I'm sure they'll have a lovely time playing with dark artifacts and heeding to strict, pureblood rules and dialect throughout their upbringing."

"Malfoy Manor was searched in its _entirety_ at the end of last week. I have the report with me and you can see that there wasn't a single piece of dark magic found on the premises. Also," Hermione couldn't help but add testily. "I, too, am a Malfoy in case you've forgotten. I think I can attest to the fact that the so-called 'pureblood rules and dialect' are a thing of the past and have no bearings today or any day in the future."

Narcissa broke character for a quarter of a second when she smiled before taking her seat. Blaise didn't stand. However, he seemed to exude an arrogance that could've rivaled Draco's teenage self.

"Say we do approve your orphanage and it's held in _that place_. Exactly how do you intend to maintain it?" Blaise smirked. "Planning on picking up a mop and bucket yourself?"

Under different circumstances, Hermione would've wanted to hex him to bits. Instead she'd give him a fake award later for being such a good actor.

"Ms. Margaret Hill, the owner of Margie's Home for the Disadvantaged, has agreed to turn over everything to me should my orphanage be approved. That's twenty-two children, six of whom will be returning to Hogwarts, and one going for her First Year. Ms. Hill has agreed to work for me as well as her two onsite Healers and I will be hiring more employees. Malfoy Manor will be staffed by no less than fifteen house elves, and as the orphanage grows hired help will be added as need be."

Blaise gave her a subtle nod. Both Lydia and Narcissa leaned in and the three of them conferred for a moment. The brunette was on edge and it wasn't even real!

When the deliberation was finished, Lydia turned to Hermione and said, quite stone-faced, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Malfoy, but your approval was denied."

Hermione's mouth dropped. "Excuse me?"

"Denied," Blaise reiterated. "As in, turned down. _Vetoed,_ "

"I understand what it means, but _why?_ "

"Honestly?" Narcissa said. "Despite your arguments we simply don't believe that you have what it takes."

"That's absurd!" Hermione rose from her seat. "I have a clear desire to do this, the perfect location, _and_ there's staff in place! What _more_ could you possibly want?!"

Blaise shook his head and sighed. "Mrs. Malfoy-"

"No." Hermione challenged. "There is _nothing_ you can say to legitimize your response and I won't stand for it. It's obvious that you're incapable of recognizing what someone has to offer. Someone who, Merlin forgive me for selling myself, _saved the world as a teenager_ , and who wants to put her talents towards raising the next generation of witches and wizards! That's a far less significant feat, if you ask me. Regardless, I'd work my arse off at it like I've done everything in my life."

There were smiles on everyone's faces now. Lydia broke character completely then and went over to hug her.

"Well done!"

Hermione furrowed her brows amidst the hug. "What?"

"Lydia is right, dear." Narcissa commended. "When dealing with people in power there's more to just _wanting_ something or proving that you can do it. You have to show that you are willing to fight for it."

"And put people in their place when denied it." Blaise added happily.

Hermione stood dumbfounded, mouth slightly agape, before grumbling. "I hate all of you. _Especially_ you," she added to Draco who laughed. He replaced Lydia as the hugger and kissed her on the forehead.

"Now we both know that's not true."

Hermione wanted to grumble some more but that was a bit impossible when in her husband's arms. He was right, of course. To say she hated him would be the biggest lie in history.

* * *

Because Hermione was going to be the primary owner of the orphanage it was to be _her_ in front of the board members and not both her and Draco. He was still there, of course, in the stands within her eyesight so she didn't lose her nerve. He didn't think she would though. And that turned out very much to be the case. Once Hermione had gotten the ball rolling there was no stopping her. She answered every question thoroughly, refuted what needed to be refuted, and shot down any negative remark about him or Narcissa. Draco couldn't have been prouder -especially when after deliberating the board members gave her permission to start her orphanage.

It was clear that Hermione wanted to jump for joy, but she refrained until every last member of the board was gone. Draco had barely gotten down to the platform before she jumped into his arms.

"We have the orphanage!"

" _You_ have the orphanage." Draco corrected. "And I'm proud of you. Now, let's go celebrate."

Hermione nodded eagerly and gathered her things. She had expected Draco to take her to a restaurant nearby or some sort, not home. When they got there she had been pleasantly surprised to find it dimly lit, shimmering orbs floating on the ceiling. She glanced at her husband suspiciously, but he was too busy being smug to notice. Instead he took her hand and gently guided her along the orbs' path down the stairs and out to the backyard. Out on the terrace was a table draped in a cream tablecloth with candles, wine glasses, and dinner plates. Music was playing from out of nowhere (magic, of course), and Frizzle, dressed in his best (because Hermione had kept her promise on freeing him although he chose to stay), greeted them with a bow.

"Congratulations on your orphanage, Mistress." Frizzle said happily before turning to Draco. "Shall I present the food now?"

"Give us five minutes, then yes."

Frizzle bowed once more. "Of course,"

Hermione was beaming. "What would've happened if I didn't get my orphanage then?"

"This would be a pity dinner followed by pity sex instead of celebratory ones." Draco said simply.

Hermione laughed, pulled him by the collar, and kissed him. Happy, angry, sad, however, Draco's wife was one hell of a kisser and he lost himself with her every time. So much so that he (nor she) even realized that Frizzle had come back and placed their dinner on the table. However, he chose not to make his presence known. He was glad that his Mistress was in a good mood (for he'd seen her at her lowest and _that_ was something he hoped never to see again). So, with a simple charm meant to keep the food at a warm temperature for several hours, he _walked_ , not apparated, away from the terrace.

In the end it turned out to be celebratory sex followed by celebratory dinner, and Frizzle had been so kind as to bring it to their bedroom.

"I still think I'm going to house elf hell for indulging him." Hermione said as she picked up her fork. Draco laughed and took her fork away so that he could feed her.

"Frizzle's a free elf now, Hermione." Draco reminded her. "He _chooses_ to stay."

"I know, I know. It still doesn't help. If only he wasn't such a fantastic chef."

Draco shook his head at her in amusement and allowed her to take back her fork so that he could get started on his own dinner.

"So, what now since step one of your orphanage is complete?"

"Well, June is tomorrow and Narcissa is officially moving out August 1st. I would love to have the Manor outfitted with everything that it'll need the week after so that Margie, the Healers, and all of the kids can be there by then. It'll give those who are Hogwarts students time to settle in too before they go off to Hogwarts again. I want to start the hiring process for at least three more caregivers. I'll have Margie help me interview since she's had first hand knowledge of these children for years."

"And the school portion of the orphanage?"

Hermione pursed her lips in thought. "I think I'll wait a bit on that. That'll require its own hearing with an entirely different set of board members. So, let's get one portion of the orphanage set up at a time."

Draco smiled. "Agreed. Now hurry up and finishing eating so we can mess up the sheets again."

Hermione threw her head back and laughed. "Haven't you ever heard that you have to wait an hour after eating before sex?"

"That's swimming," Draco replied with a grin as he slipped her utensil from her and shifted her plate to the floor. "Nice try though,"

* * *

Hermione was moody today. Granted she'd been moody ever since she got the approval for her orphanage three weeks ago (what with the endless amount of work that had been piled onto her lap), but today it was worse. Today she had been fired from her job. _Fired._ _**Hermione Granger. FIRED?**_ It grated on her nerves more than she could ever describe although Draco, and now her parents too, were telling her that she hadn't been.

"It sounds like your boss gave you a choice, love." Mr. Granger said as he dug his fork into his lasagna. "And you chose to keep your focus on your orphanage. There's nothing wrong with that."

Hermione brooded. That was, essentially, what had happened in her office that day if she was going to be _technical_ about it. The Department Head, Lena Hornsby, had popped into her office shortly before the end of the day. Hermione had expected it to be a friendly visit considering the time, and because if it had been serious she would've been summoned by an inter-departmental memo. And so the brunette and the older, yet still youthful-looking woman began to chat, smile, and laugh just like usual. And then that's when the conversation turned south:

" _I'm so happy that you got your orphanage. How have you been doing with it?"_

" _Good!" Hermione said excitedly. "I just hired a caregiver earlier this week. Still have to hire another one, but it's a start. Margie and I -I told you about Margie, right? We want to figure out which area of the Manor to put this first set of kids. A different area as a nursery, of course. However, seeing as there's only one baby we probably won't do that for him. Oh, you should see him, Lena. His name is Aiden and he's absolutely adorable. He-"_

" _It certainly sounds like you have a lot on your plate." Lena smiled, albeit a bit forcefully. "It's amazing that you're able to keep up with it_ _ **and**_ _this."_

 _Lena had gestured to the work on Hermione's desk. The latter looked down and nodded._

" _It can be a hassle, yes. But, I've been known to take on a lot in the past -my friends can attest to that. I can do it."_

 _Lena gave a curt nod. "Yes, I'm quite sure that you can. Although...that doesn't necessarily mean that you_ _ **have**_ _to."_

 _Hermione instantly frowned. "What do you mean?"_

" _...I just mean that running your orphanage will take a lot of work. So does being a Senior Magical Researcher. Now believe me, I have no doubts that you could do both in your sleep -or with a lack of it," Lena poorly joked. "But as your friend I don't want you to overwork yourself."_

" _...And as my boss you're firing me."_

 _Lena's eyes went wide. "No! No! I'm not firing you at all. I'm just giving you the option to...to put your focus where you see fit. And if you think that you can adjust your focus to both this and your orphanage then that's great. Fantastic. I'm… I'm leaving it up to you."_

 _I'm leaving it up to you…_

Repeating those words in her mind left a bitter taste in Hermione's mouth. It was so awful that she couldn't even properly enjoy her mother's dinner. Either that or it was the new seasoning she had decided to try and one that Hermione didn't like very much.

"It's the housewife thing, isn't it?" Mrs. Granger asked her daughter. Draco stared between his wife and his mother-in-law.

"The housewife thing?"

"She's always had this dread that she'll become a housewife destined to-"

"Cook and clean and run charities while her husband works." Hermione grumbled. Draco was staring solely at his wife now. His lips slowly morphed into a smile before he began to laugh, surprising everyone at the table.

"You do realize that you've described my mother, don't you? Sans the cooking and cleaning, of course."

Hermione immediately turned beet red. It hadn't even occurred to her that, yes, her description was Narcissa Malfoy in a nutshell.

"It's hardly an offence." She muttered in embarrassment, picking up her fork although she had no intentions of eating. "She loves doing it."

"And you love what you've embarked on doing, don't you?" Draco questioned. Hermione side-glanced at him and sighed before nodding. "Then it's no big deal. Besides, if you do what you love, you'll never work a day in your life, right? With that logic as far as I'm concerned the Ministry was just a hobby."

Hermione couldn't help it. She laughed. Damn her husband and his rational thinking. Did it make up for the fact that she lost her job? Not at all. But at least she could focus all of her energy into building the best living facility that children deserved.

* * *

 **Author's note:** A necessary filler alert :). And happy me that the next chapter is 75% done. Yey! The things I do while I'm at work...shhh lol. If the writing mojo keeps up then maybe the next chapter will come early. Fingers crossed!

-WP

 **Guest:** Nothing wrong with being a dreamer! And they're good dreams too :)

 **Tessica1:** Thank you! Let's keep our fingers crossed for that!

 **MrsGinPotter:** Thanks for your comments! As I told another reviewer, Draco and Hermione experienced a terrible misfortune, and something like that you can't get over night, nor write about in just one or two chapters. They'll struggle with it for a while and will try their best to rise above their misfortune :).


	49. The Malfoy Home for Children

_Hermione_ _Malfoy:_

 _Making Her Mark in the Lives of Children_

 _Hermione Malfoy (née Granger) has been leaving her mark on the wizarding world since she was a child in her efforts to aid Harry Potter in his defeat of You-Know-Who. Although the dark wizard has been dead for the past five years, Mrs. Malfoy's contributions have not stopped. Along with her comrades, she has helped to rebuild and to shape the Ministry of Magic that we have today which includes many of the policies that we hold. She had also taken up a post as a Senior Magical Researcher, putting her knowledgeable skills into several departments within the Ministry to solve numerous cases -most notably the Cursed Objects case this year of which she had, unfortunately, been a victim._

 _Since her terrible attack, Mrs. Malfoy has turned her attention to more charitable means and was recently approved to open and run her very own orphanage. She has since left her Senior Magical Research position in order to focus solely on her endeavor which, as we were told by the wonderfully ambitious witch herself, has taken up much of her time as of late._

 _"_ _It's not as easy as just opening a building's doors and inviting orphaned children to stay there." Hermione Malfoy said with a laugh. "You have to make sure that you have the appropriate facilities, enough people there to care for the children, a hospital wing of sorts, ample space for the children to play, and much,_ _ **much**_ _more to consider. One day I hope to also have something akin to a private school for them there."_

 _Unless you have the funds to get that ample space, a hospital wing, (and a_ _ **private school!**_ _), opening an orphanage of the monumental size discussed can be challenging, if not impossible. But this is Hermione_ _ **Malfoy**_ _we're talking about, holder to wealth untold. She doesn't even have to spend any of it on a location as the orphanage will be held at the Malfoy Manor. Situated in Wiltshire on a enormous piece of property and filled with wings galore, there is no doubt that however many children to be housed there will be well taken care of._

 _"_ _Margie's Home for the Disadvantaged will be closing in the next few weeks." Mrs. Malfoy explained. "The owner, Ms. Margaret Hill, will be relocating to Malfoy Manor as well as the twenty-two children who were in her care."_

 _Twenty-two children! I think we can all agree that is a tremendous start for a new orphanage. In addition to the aforementioned residents, there will be four Healers onsite, five care caregivers, and sixteen house elves on staff. They will all be increased as the number of children are increased as well._

 _So, be on the lookout folks! The Malfoy Home for Children officially opens its doors on August 4th._

Hermione could cry. She had done the interview with the Daily Prophet just last week and it came out even better than expected. There were three weeks until the orphanage opened and yes, she was tired, and yes, she slept whenever she could, but the hard work had been worth it.

"You've really done it." Ginny grinned. She had been sipping her tea and listening to Hermione read the article aloud as they sat in the living room. "You said you wanted to open an orphanage and you've managed it. Not that I doubted it for a second."

Hermione smiled. "Thanks, Ginny. I'm really excited about this. And I think once September hits I'll work on the school portion."

"Really?" The redhead furrowed her brow. "I thought you weren't going to start that until later?"

"I was, but I've got such a good momentum going, you know?" Hermione countered. "Why stop?"

"Not stop, _pause._ You've been going like a maniac for months and, to be honest, you look exhausted."

Hermione chuckled. "Great, thanks. It's nice to know that I look like a troll."

Ginny laughed. "I did _not_ call you a troll. I just want you to take it easy. For me?"

Hermione sat back in her seat and brooded. "Yes, alright."

* * *

"I am _so_ dreadfully tired." Narcissa exclaimed as she took a dignified sip of her ice-cold water. Draco sat back in his seat and refrained from laughing. His mother was so melodramatic. She would be moving out of the Manor in three weeks and had begun packing her things little by little and having them moved to her new home.

Well, no, that wasn't completely accurate. She was having her four remaining house elves pack her things little by little and move them to her new home. The only thing that should've been tired on her, with no disrespect to his mother, was her mouth. She had been ordering the house elves nonstop for the past two weeks. It was a surprise that the creatures weren't dead yet.

"I saw the Daily Prophet highlighting Hermione's orphanage." Narcissa smiled. "Absolutely wonderful work. I'm sure she'll have more than just those twenty-two children in no time."

"Is that all you're going to gush about?" Draco asked with a raised brow. "I thought you would be more over the moon about our family name being so well-spoken of."

"There's no need to discuss things that are already a given, Draco." She replied happily. "It's redundant conversation."

 _Classy, Mother. Always classy…_

Narcissa had the Daily Prophet article in her hands. Yes, she looked quite contented -as well she should be. She was moving into a new house, her daughter-in-law was gaining fame and notoriety for their family, and everything in general...was just on the up and up. Although, having been this woman's son for the past twenty-three years, Draco knew how to read her. There was still something amiss.

"I think I'll keep the clipping." Narcissa announced after a while. She paused once and flicked her eyes away from the newspaper to glance at her son just for a moment. "And I'll send it with my letter to your father."

Draco's face fell. No, not fell. _It crashed._ He leaned forward in his seat (screw perfect posture) and stared at his mother intently.

"You're going to send that to _who?_ "

"You heard me, Draco." She breathed deeply. "It's… It's been five years. My house arrest is over next month and so is your father's probation. Well, to receive correspondences that is. It'll still be yet another five years before face-to-face interactions are allowed, ten more after that before he even gets a chance at parole."

Draco's thought processes had completely shut down during her exposition. It wasn't that he couldn't hear her. He honestly wished that he hadn't. Thoughts of his father had been far from his mind as of late. Quite frankly since he had been with Hermione. Somehow it had escaped his attention that his wife was his father's _daughter-in-law._ They were related now -by marriage only, but still. It made his stomach turn in ways he couldn't quite imagine and he hated it.

"Draco? Did you hear me?"

He blinked back to reality. "Sorry. Did you say something?"

Narcissa pursed her lips and eyed her son warily. "I asked if you were going to write your father."

"Oh," Draco frowned. "I… I don't know. But I'll tell you what, you can write for the both us. No point in wasting parchment."

Narcissa felt hurt by her son's words, but she didn't comment on it. Instead she veered the conversation to something a little less dreary -like the obvious love Draco's wife had for the "most adorable baby you've ever seen" who would be moving into the Manor with the rest of the orphans next month.

When her son left Narcissa retired to her study and sat herself at her desk. It had become a regular occurrence over the past week to do this. When all of her work was done, no more visitors, and there was nothing left to do, she would find herself at her desk with parchment, a quill, and ink. She had thought about writing to her husband for years and now that the time was at hand words were failing her.

Next to her desk was a rubbish bin that she had forbidden the house elves from cleaning. Inside were several crumpled balls of parchment from letters that she had started, but never finished. She just _could not_ for the life of her get past the first line.

Maybe tonight would be different? Maybe after looking through her thrown out letters and seeing where she went wrong she could finally figure out what to say? With a sigh she got started and frowned at the first one she had picked out.

 _Lucius,_

 _I hope your stay thus far in Azkaban has changed you for the better._

Narcissa hated the way it sounded. Like she was putting blame on him as though _she_ didn't once have the same prejudices. Not that they were wholly gone now, but rather...amended, as it were. The next letter was no better.

 _My darling Lucius,_

That was how far she had gotten with that one. She was an affectionate woman, yes, but only when the time was right. In a letter to a man in Azkaban certainly wasn't that and it felt quite beneath her.

 _Lucius,_

 _Draco and I have been missing you terribly since your imprisonment._

Narcissa, in no good conscience, could send a letter with a line like that. It was a bold-faced lie. _She_ missed her husband, yes, but as for her son… She wasn't quite sure what to make of his feelings towards his father. She hoped that Draco didn't hate him. She knew that he wasn't fond of him right now, but hate was… Hate was strong. It was much harder to recover from hate than from a subtle dislike.

With a sigh Narcissa threw all the letters back into the rubbish bin and sought out to start anew.

 _Lucius,_

 _After all this time it's hard to pinpoint what to say. So much has happened since you were taken from us._

Narcissa set down her quill and twisted her lips in thought. Not much emotion given -if at all. Was that a good thing? She wasn't sure, but she wasn't going to throw this one away. It was the first time she had gotten through a second sentence and that, in her book, was progress.

* * *

Having been born in April, Giana was three months old now -three months and one week, to be precise. That said, the little girl's parents were completely germaphobic and were mortified if she got even the tiniest sniffle. That was the reason why she had been staying with her godparents for the past three days while Blaise and Liliana were recovering from a mid-summer cold (sometimes too many Cooling Charms backfired).

Hermione was outside in the backyard and relaxing on a lawn chair with Giana in her arms. In the meantime she intermittently looked up just to make sure that her eyes weren't deceiving her. Draco had promised to de-gnome the garden, but what had nearly made her choke was that Harry and Ron were helping him. Not that it had been planned, of course. Hermione's friends had popped over for a visit while Draco had been working. One wisecrack from Ron about her husband's de-gnoming skills had led to the rebuttal: "If you're so good at it, why don't _you_ do it?"

Ron wasn't about to back down from a challenge so he got right to it. Harry got involved because a gnome had attempted bite Ron's hand off. Draco, having successfully duped them both into doing the work for him, had been perfectly content to let them handle it. One strong look from Hermione, however, made him grumble and actually take part in the chore.

"You see what I have to deal with?" Hermione rhetorically asked Giana. "Three big babies, but none of them are nearly as cute as you. Well, your Uncle Draco does come pretty close."

Giana gave a small smile at that and Hermione returned it. The brunette was quite proud of herself. The day Giana was born Hermione did cry a bit once she and Draco had gotten home. At least she had managed to hold it in until after they were away from the new parents. And yes, it still hurt, but she had been plenty distracted as of late so that her pain, while not gone, was more or less a heavy pendant necklace on her chest rather than a huge boulder on her back. She could be around Ron and Lavender with few difficulties -although, with no disrespect to Lavender, Hermione tried not to be in the same room with her for very long. Over time she had determined that it was _pregnancy_ that made her depressed, not a child per se. Children moved and laughed and interacted with you so that you could laugh right back. They, in essence, were a distraction -and a mighty good one.

That's why Hermione went to Margie's soon-to-be-closed orphanage to see Aiden on a regular basis. Of course, she had other reasons to go there like to make sure that the transition went well from one orphanage to another, but Aiden was primary. He was three months, born just two weeks after Giana. And Hermione was, she had to admit, quite attached to him.

"Bleeding, buggering hell!" Draco yelled hideously as he waved his arm around. Harry and Ron were laughing uncontrollably and all Hermione could do was roll her eyes.

"Is my husband bleeding to death over there?" Hermione called out to them.

Ron shook his head, still in a fit of giggles, as the three of them walked back to the house. "Not to death, but he's definitely bleeding."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake… _Help him_ then."

"We were!" Ron replied as he took out his wand before muttering, "After a few more minutes..."

"I should've let that other gnome bite you on the arse." Draco glared as Ron performed a Healing Charm on him.

"Draco!" Hermione admonished before motioning with her head to Giana. "She can hear you, you know."

Draco smirked. Once his arm was fixed he leaned over Hermione so he was face-to-face with Giana and said, "Your first word isn't going to be 'arse' if I say it front of you, will it?"

Hermione's eyes grew. " _Draco!_ "

He laughed and pecked her lips to stop the tirade he knew was coming. "Relax. With all the inappropriate things Blaise says the 'A-word' is the least of her worries."

Hermione leaned her head back and shook it. If something worse came out of Giana's innocent mouth she would have to kill her husband _and_ Blaise.

"How's Lavender?" Hermione asked Ron. He shrugged nonchalantly although there was a huge smile on his face.

"Cursing my name left and right for making her fat and unattractive."

Hermione laughed. "She'll be fine. The baby will be here by the end of next month and then she'll be overcome with joy. Now," she continued with a smirk. "Time for my next question. When's the wedding?"

Ron, smiling still, shook his head at her. "You just want somewhere fancy to go so you can dress up. Oi, Malfoy -treat her better and take her somewhere nice."

"Go fall in a ditch," was Draco's reply. Less acerbic than his past verbal arsenals at him, but a shot at him nonetheless. At least there were no punches thrown. He and Ron hadn't declared a friendship or anything, but at least Hermione had a peace of mind that they were frenemies (emphasis on the _"_ _fre-"_ ).

Funny how life turned out.

* * *

Draco was highly amused. He had come home to find half of his cologne collection huddled together in a corner of his and Hermione's shared bureau with a sign in her handwriting _"_ _Do NOT Use."_ She had complained earlier in the week that the smell was "overpowering." Naturally he said that she was exaggerating. By looking at the sign he was right.

Draco shook his head as he left the bedroom and wandered through the house. "Hermione?" He called. He said her name a few times, but once he realized that he was home alone a smile graced his lips as he went back upstairs. A handful of Floo Powder later and he was walking into what was left of Margie's Home for the Disadvantaged. Many things were boxed up while others still needed packing.

"Ah, Draco! Good to see you." Margie greeted as she came down the stairs.

"Margie," he greeted back. "How's the packing going?"

"Long and arduous, but it's going! Some of the children are excited to help while the others think it's punishment." She sighed with a shake of her head.

"I bet. Now, as for my wife, is she helping you pack or is she…?" Draco gestured upstairs and Margie grinned.

"I think you know it's the latter option. It's like her second home up there."

"So I've realized." He chuckled. "Let me go kidnap her before she spends the night."

"I don't think she'd mind that one bit!" Margie beamed before walking away.

Draco went upstairs and down the hall to the nursery where he knew he'd find Hermione. She didn't hear him when he came in, and he leaned against the wall behind her and watched. She was holding Aiden, as always, and looking happier than the day she found out her orphanage was approved.

"You're getting _so_ big." Hermione cooed at him. "You're going to need bigger clothes soon."

Of course, Aiden didn't say anything back, but his goofy, toothless grin was conversation enough. Draco must have stayed where he was without her noticing him for a solid five minutes. Eventually he made his presence known.

"You want him, don't you?" Draco asked.

Hermione was startled and pulled Aiden closer to her chest. She turned, finally noticing her husband and scolded him. "You do _not_ sneak up on a person holding a child!"

Draco laughed. "You were sitting in a chair; he was fine. Are you going to answer my question?"

There was a terrible rouge in her cheeks. No, there was no mirror so Hermione could see it, but she could _feel_ it happening. "Am I that obvious?"

"You're here with him every day. Of course it's obvious."

 _Here goes more blushing…_

Hermione looked up at Draco tentatively and asked, "Do _you_ want him?"

Draco didn't answer at first. Instead he walked further into the room and kneeled by her side. Aiden turned his head to him and Draco smiled. The boy's eyes were a brighter shade of grey than the first time he had seen him. His hair, still Hermione's brown, now had slight waves.

"Yes,"

Hermione instantly felt her eyes prickle with tears. But no, she didn't cry. Instead she took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay… Well… Aiden's still part of the orphanage. Just because we own it doesn't mean we can just take him. No special treatment. We'll still have to fill out the paperwork and go through the screening process just like everyone else."

Draco grinned. "Can we use our family name to expedite the process at least?"

Hermione cocked her head back and laughed. " _No._ "

"Oh alright…" Draco consented and wiped away tears that his wife had so obviously been trying to fight. They both looked down at Aiden who had begun to fall asleep.

Aiden Malfoy.

The name certainly had a nice ring to it.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Oh my heart! Little Aiden Malfoy... I'm tempted to google photos of what he might look like to satisfy my imagination :)

-WP


	50. What You Deserve

Aiden Scorpius Taylor Malfoy.

Neither Draco or Hermione wanted to erase Aiden's past and so they kept his original last name with the "Malfoy" addition. There would be no lying about whether he was adopted or not sometime in the future (not that they would have). Although he had Draco's eyes and Hermione's hair, the traditional pale skin that passed through the Malfoy line without fail was clearly absent. Instead he had a lovely shade of light brown. The final touch was to give him "Scorpius" as a middle name to keep with family tradition and, one week later (despite wanting no special privileges), Aiden was home.

If anyone thought Hermione and Draco were happy, no one was more thrilled than Narcissa. Aiden had moved into his new home just two days before Narcissa had moved into hers and she barely even spent time there. She was with Hermione and Draco most of the time cooing over her new grandson.

She complimented his eyes, his nose, his little laugh, his toothless grin, _everything._ And now that her house arrest was over Narcissa spent a bulk of her newfound freedom picking up her favorite pastime: shopping. However, hardly anything she bought was for herself and she would come through her son and his wife's home laden with bags (carried by a house elf, of course) filled with clothes and toys.

"I think your mother's gone mad." Hermione had joked one night.

Draco had given her a sly smile, replying, "And you haven't?"

That had been true, seeing as Hermione, Ginny, Lydia, and Lianna had kept Aiden out well past his bedtime three nights ago going through shoppe after shoppe spending like crazy. He officially had a nursery fit for a king and yes, perhaps it was a bit overboard, but for once in her life Hermione didn't care about what was practical or not. She just wanted to do what made her feel good, and buying things _for her son_ gave her the happiest feeling in the world.

But today? Today she felt like death. Ron even went so far as to tell her so.

"Merlin, you look terrible." Ron exclaimed. "Have you been sleeping?"

Hermione cocked a brow in the air and gestured upstairs. "Three month old, remember? He doesn't like to let his mummy sleep."

"So _you're_ what I have to look forward to at the end of the month?" Ron joked as he allowed her to stay seated so he could make them tea. "Well, that's certainly an eye-opener."

Hermione laughed and immediately regretted it when she felt like she wanted to throw up. "You're an awful person. And no, this is what Lavender has to look forward to. Draco looks pristine as ever even though he gets as much sleep as I do. I'm beginning to think it's _Mother Syndrome._ "

Ron raised a brow and smirked. "Okay, now you're making things up."

"I do admit that I made up the name." Hermione grinned. "I needed something to explain why I'm constantly on edge."

"On edge? What do you mean?"

"It's no big deal." She shrugged. "I've just been feeling antsy and a bit moody. And sometimes when I wake up in the morning I-"

"Feel nauseated?" Ron finished. When he saw his friend tilt her head his eyes lit up. "Hermione… Hermione, you're pregnant."

The brunette scoffed. "Ron, you know that I can't-"

"But think of everything you just said." He argued gently. "And Malfoy told Harry who told me what you did to his cologne this week."

Hermione slouched in her seat. Nearly two weeks ago she had banned Draco from using them. Yesterday she had thrown them all out. Just _looking_ at them was giving her phantom smells and making her sick to her stomach.

"Coming from someone who's lived _with_ a pregnant woman for the past nine months, I should know." Ron continued. "You're a smart woman. Don't tell me that you haven't at the very least _thought_ about it. That would be highly unlike you."

Hermione bit her lip. After a moment she sighed and nodded. "Of course, I've thought about it. It's been a lingering thought here and there ever since Draco's cologne started making me want to retch."

Ron was smiling as he finished the tea and brought it to the counter. "You should go to a Healer and find out. Take a home test or something."

Hermione, to his surprise, began shaking her head. "If I haven't done it before then I'm certainly not doing it now."

"What do you mean? You-"

"Ron, listen to me, _please._ I… I don't want to see someone. I _can't_. Healer Hasbrook and Dr. Lonnegan couldn't get rid of the curse."

"You haven't seen them in months." Ron reasoned. "Who's to say it isn't gone? Or maybe healed some so that you _are_ pregnant?"

"What if it's not?"

"Then… Then it means you might be sick, and you need to see a Healer anyway."

"No." Hermione said defiantly. She suddenly got up from the kitchen counter and walked away from him through the house, but she wasn't going to get away that easy. Ron followed, arguing at her back.

"Hermione! You _have_ to go!"

"No, I don't!"

"Yes, you do! What are you going to do then? Wait a few more months to see if your stomach grows?!"

"It's a right side better than having my hopes up and finding out that it won't!" Hermione finally stopped walking and turned around. Ron frowned immediately when he saw her tear-stricken face. "I have been hurt in the worst way, Ron, and I am _not_ about to let it happen twice. Draco and I are… We're happy. _Really_ happy for once. This entire year has been an utter hell with intermittent triumphs as bandaids. Sure, we smiled and laughed on the outside, but here at home where no one could see we were absolute wrecks. Can't we just have _one_ moment where nothing ruins us?"

Ron stared at his best friend and his chest ached. He'd seen Hermione upset before, but this was more than that. This was torture. He eventually sighed and bit the inside of his jaw. "I get it. I do. No one should ever have to go through what you have. It was cruel, and you didn't deserve it. But," he said with a stern face. "You can't live in denial. I won't let you. If you don't go to St. Mungo's I'm telling Malfoy and _he'll_ make you go. So? What's it going to be?"

Hermione's face fell. Without warning she slapped him as hard as she could. "I hate you." She growled out.

The sting of the slap hurt like hell, but Ron wasn't mad. He wasn't even angry at what she said. Instead he pulled her into his arms and hugged her. She broke down then, an avalanche of tears drenching his chest.

"I'll ask Ginny to come over and watch Aiden." Ron whispered. "And then you and I can go to St. Mungo's. Okay?"

Hermione didn't say anything, but nod.

* * *

"What kind of sick people actually take the time out to make these things?" Travers asked aloud. But then he glanced at Draco who narrowed his eyes at him and huffed.

"Are you _seriously_ asking me that question?"

Travers shrugged then grinned. "You would know better than anyone, wouldn't you?"

Draco rolled his eyes (a terrible habit he had picked up from his wife) and ignored him. Despite what Travers said having the best potential at being a low blow, Draco didn't take it as such. Ever since Hermione's cursed accident his partner had been a little on the more tolerable side. Yes, he was still an arse. Yes, he tested Draco's impulse to hex him. And yet he managed to cope with the nutter, surprisingly.

"Whoever made it still did sloppy work." Draco commented as he walked around the table and stared at the not-so-innocuous pocketwatch. "Same signature make as the last thing. He or she will be caught by the end of the week."

"Agreed." Travers nodded as he pocketed his wand. "Can we go home now?"

Draco raised a brow. "Got somewhere important to go?"

"Not that it's any business of yours...but yes. I have a date this evening."

Draco did very little to suppress his snort. "And at which loony bin did you find her?"

Travers crossed his arms over his chest like a child and grumbled, "She's not crazy."

"She's going out with you, so, are you sure about that?" Draco questioned. His partner's reply was two middle fingers and he laughed. "Yeah, alright, we can go. We've figured out enough as it is. Besides, if I leave now I can have more than the usual one hour with Aiden before Hermione puts him to bed."

Travers' face broke out into a soft smile. "These are the days when you actually _want_ kids to have later bedtimes."

Draco tilted his head. "You have kids?"

"A niece," he replied. "Always sleeping every time I go visit. It's ridiculous."

Draco was smiling just the same -long enough for both he and Travers to feel the awkward.

Travers huffed. "Are we done being friends now?"

" _Definitely_ done," Draco answered as he headed out of the door first. "And remember to properly lock up, you forgetful prick."

"Shove it up the arse, Malfoy."

When Draco got home he immediately went into Aiden's room since his two favorite people were usually there. Today was just one, but that didn't matter. He walked further into the bedroom with purposeful strides and up to his son's crib, but then frowned when he saw that he was asleep. At least it looked like a peaceful sleep. His tiny fingers twitched a little as he slept and Draco sighed.

"Maybe I should quit my job." Draco said to him. "It's not like I _have_ to work."

There was laughter from behind him and Draco turned.

"Sorry," Hermione giggled from the doorway. "I tried to keep him awake, but he's been grumpy all day because he didn't nap earlier."

"How long has he been asleep?"

"About an hour,"

"Hmm, that means he'll wake up at about…" Draco raised his hands and started ticking away at his fingers. "Ten or eleven,"

"And stay awake until three." Hermione grinned as she walked over to the crib. Aiden was in the same position she had laid him in and she couldn't help but be emotional about it. He slept just like Draco: in one spot. If that wasn't the damn cutest thing ever…

"Are you alright?" Draco asked. Hermione smiled at him and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine. I, um… Draco, I went to see Healer Hasbrook and Dr. Lonnegan today."

Draco's face immediately fell as he turned to face her. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Hermione inappropriately laughed as he took her by the arms and began prodding and turning her this way and that as if he could see the damage. She eventually stopped him and placed her hands on the sides of his face.

"Nothing's wrong." She promised. "This is... _far_ from being wrong. Draco," she smiled broadly and this time let her tears run freely. "I'm pregnant."

Draco blinked once. Then twice. Then a third and fourth time as though that would make him hear better. Instead it seemed to have made things worse. His stomach was in knots and his legs felt like pudding.

"What?"

"I said that I'm pregnant."

Draco felt weak. No, forget that. He felt sick. Hermione could read it in his face and so she took him by the hand and led him out of Aiden's room and into theirs. She sat him on the edge of the bed where he rest his forearms on his knees and stared at nothing.

"But the curse…?"

"It's still there." Hermione confirmed. "But obviously it's not as strong as it once was. Healer Hasbrook and Dr. Lonnegan want to see me every three weeks to make sure everything with the baby is okay. This is obviously a delicate and novel situation."

"And it's not a mistake?" Draco asked desperately as he looked up at her. Hermione could see how badly he wanted this, and how much it would hurt if it wasn't true. No one could sympathize with him more than her. She picked something up from the bureau before kneeling down beside him and rubbed his back.

"It's not a mistake." Hermione told him. "I'm ten weeks. I even have a sonogram, see?"

Hermione raised photograph for him and Draco took it from her hand. A moving picture of their baby was right there. Clear as day. Draco put a hand over his mouth and sighed into it.

"You wouldn't think less of me if I blubbered like an idiot, would you?" He asked her after a prolonged pause.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I wouldn't."

"Okay. Good."

Hermione had seen her husband cry on more than one occasion so far for the year because of their misfortunate. However, this was the first time that it was actually _happy_ tears. He did nothing but sob and stare at the sonogram for Merlin knew how long until he eventually set it aside and pulled Hermione into his arms. Draco didn't know what he did to deserve not one, but _two_ blessings (and at such close time intervals at that), but he didn't care. He was just happier than he ever thought he could be.

* * *

 **Author's note:** I cry when I watch things, not read/write them. This did it. If you didn't shed a tear with me my job as a writer sucks lol.

Thanks for all the support guys! I can't believe this chapter 50!

-WP

Replies to Guests:

 **Guest:** "Aww"... Oh, it was so adorable. And now this! Yey!

 **Guest2:** "So cute!" Thank you!

 **MrsGinPotter:** Haha, I think your whiff was right! This was just so... I can't stop smiling.

 **KangBoRam:** Isn't it great? AND they're going to have another bundle of joy. Like this chapter's title, they deserve it!

 **Guest3:** "Smell aversion..." Yup! First Aiden, now this. Oh my little heart :)


	51. A Sense of Security

Hermione had never been one for attention, but unfortunately this was non-optional. Naturally, Narcissa was absolutely over the moon about having another grandchild. It was the most expressive either Hermione or Draco had ever seen her be, and they sat astonished as they watched Narcissa lift Aiden into her arms, gently swing him around and say, "You're going to be a big brother. Isn't that wonderful?!" She had completely forgotten herself and only settled when she realized how flabbergasted her son and daughter-in-law were.

The Grangers had all but moved into the house when they heard the news. They were there so often that Draco went so far as to offer them an extended visit. Now they were calling the downstairs guest bedroom their home for the rest of the August. Ginny had broken her cup of tea when she found out and nearly choked Hermione in a super-strength hug. Harry had been equally excited, albeit gave her a gentler squeeze. Lydia was out on assignment again (somewhere in France), but somehow through the information grapevine had found out and sent a Howler filled with her screaming excitement. Not the traditional use of Howlers, of course, but it had certainly done the job.

Blaise and Uriel had taken Draco out to celebrate while Liliana and Giana spent the afternoon with Hermione and Aiden. And, of course, their husbands came back completely inebriated and standing on either side of the only sober-minded man. That night had led to, surprisingly, only slightly uncoordinated sex followed by _very_ well-coordinated sex when they woke up the next morning. Hermione had made sure to mention that the vomit fit she had thrown after that had _absolutely no bearings_ on what they had done.

Hermione wasn't sure if it was a mind over matter thing, but she found herself hyper-aware of all of her pregnancy symptoms now. She had morning sickness more, hated certain foods more and loved others that she _used_ to hate, and she had used her wand to modify more smells in the house than humanly possible. Luckily, and quite unbelievably, her first trimester was almost over. That's what happens when you're in denial and your menstrual cycle was screwed up even _before_ you were pregnant.

Narcissa, an ever-lingering presence now, wanted to make sure that her daughter-in-law was well taken care of. Never mind that her own parents were in the house. The newly-minted grandmother had given Hermione two new (temporary) house elves to tend to the house so that she didn't have to do anything. Hermione fretted about it. Draco had laughed, then regretted it when his wife threatened to ban him from her nether region for the remainder of her pregnancy.

Even now Hermione was on "motion probation" as she liked to call it. In reality it was just no strenuous activity while her mother-in-law was around or else she'd get an earful. _No one_ needed to be at the mercy of that.

"I still don't understand why they want to cook." Narcissa mused as she held up various photographs and smiled at them. Hermione had bought a photo album yesterday so that she and Draco could start it for Aiden. Both women were out on the terrace now going through a record-breaking number of photographs taken in the past two weeks. Aiden was helping too, although his help came in the form of trying to pick up a photograph and ending up swiping it to the floor.

"My parents _like_ to cook." Hermione said as she leaned over to pick up two pictures. "And they want to do something nice for everyone."

"Merlin bless them in that case." She said as she set a photo of Draco feeding Aiden off to one side. "Cooking is a dreadfully arduous and hideous chore."

Hermione's brows rose high on her head. "Forgive me for sounding surprised, but… Are you saying that you've cooked before?"

"Well, not in the way that you're thinking." Narcissa replied with obvious hesitancy. "In my family Muggle habits and tendencies were sometimes used as punishment if we misbehaved."

" _Sorry?_ "

"I was sent to the kitchens with the house elves for unladylike behavior."

Hermione's mouth dropped. "That's… That's…"

"Something that will never be done again, I assure you. And no," she added before her daughter-in-law could ask. "I never practiced my family's way of punishment with Draco. Time outs and taking away things that he liked worked just fine."

Not that she let on, but that was certainly a relief for Hermione. Aiden gurgled from her lap and leaned back against her stomach and chest. She grinned, held him close, and took a huge inhale. He was the only person her nose wasn't sensitive to, and he smelled like baby powder and shampoo.

"And to think," Narcissa said contentedly as she watched them interact. "By early March there will be another little one on your lap like that."

"I know." Hermione beamed. She picked up Aiden and held him up to her face. "You're going to be a great big brother. And mummy and daddy won't love you any less. Okay?"

Aiden squealed and reached out for her face which made Hermione laugh. Just seeing them together made Narcissa's heart melt. She had forgotten what it was like to be around a child. Her memories instantly brought her back to when Draco was young. He was so carefree when he was a toddler. She and Lucius simply couldn't get enough of him.

Narcissa internally sighed. _Lucius._

"Hermione, dear," Narcissa said hesitantly as he held a photograph in her hand. "I was hoping that I could…well… That I may send a photograph of Aiden to Lucius."

Hermione had been enjoying Aiden's uncoordinated attempt to pull at her hair when her eyes instantly peered over her son's head at Narcissa. "You can write to him now?"

"My house arrested is over as well as his correspondence probation."

"Oh,"

Silence lingered in the air. The only noise was coming from Aiden as Hermione gently sat him on her lap. Narcissa, ever poised, seemed tense. Not that it was insanely obvious, of course. However, after nearly a year frequenting with her mother-in-law, her subtle tells were becoming less inconspicuous.

"I just thought it would be a nice gesture," Narcissa continued in order to kill the quiet. "For him to see how Draco's future has turned out."

"Nice gesture, yes, but I doubt he'll like it."

"Oh, Lucius is hardly made of stone. He'll adore Aiden."

"But he'll hate his mother." Hermione said. "That's why you're nervous."

Narcissa resisted the urge to confirm her daughter-in-law's suspicions any further by letting her eyes fall to her perfectly manicured hands. Instead she continued sorting pictures.

"You are only part of the problem -and I mean no offense. There are just so many… _changes_ that have been made with little to no thought of Lucius at all."

Hermione frowned. "Like the Manor,"

Narcissa nodded. "Yes. And while I have come to find you as a wonderful companion for Draco, it's a definite possibility that Lucius will not. He's probably been foaming at the mouth since his probation lifted."

Hermione nodded. Lucius' probation hadn't just entailed no letters from anyone, but also from any media outlet. Sure a prison guard may have made a quip or two about what was happening in the world that was moving on without him, but would Lucius believe it? That his one and only pureblood son had gone and married a _muggleborn?_ _Hermione Granger_ of all muggleborns? Surely, he would have to see it to believe it. And if anyone had given him an old Daily Prophet newspaper since the end of his probation, then he would most definitely have to think it true.

"Do you really think a photograph of Draco, Aiden, I will help soothe the storm?" Hermione questioned at the picture Narcissa had in her hand. Narcissa didn't answer her question. Instead she asked one of her own.

"Did Draco ever tell you of how he informed me of your relationship?"

Hermione shook her head.

"He came to me and handed me the Daily Prophet article about your graduation."

The brunette blinked. " _That's_ how you found out?"

Narcissa smiled. "Yes. A blunt move, but a move nonetheless. There is a time for craft and a time to be blunt. A Malfoy uses the former to get what he or she wants and uses the latter when he or she has something to say. As of right now, it is time for the latter."

Hermione pursed her lips. "If you say so…"

Narcissa nodded, still with photograph of Draco, Hermione, and Aiden in hand. She eventually set it aside in a whole new pile -one Hermione assumed to be sent to Lucius.

"Now, I know it's last minute," Narcissa said, considerably less tense now and more enthusiastic. "But I was hoping that you wouldn't mind if I threw a little celebration in honor of Aiden and your upcoming bundle of joy."

Hermione couldn't help the upturn of her lips. "And by 'little' you mean…?"

"Think...a cross between Draco's party when he became an Auror and your wedding."

Hermione laughed and said to Aiden, "Your grandmother has no idea what the definition of 'little' is."

"That's because there's no such thing as 'little' for a Malfoy." Narcissa replied brightly. "Nor 'subdue,' for that matter."

"Obviously," Hermione continued to chuckle. "And while I appreciate the thought, I think I'd rather any public celebrations -public events _period_ to be cut down to a severe minimum. Meaning none, if I can help it."

Narcissa was baffled. "Why on earth would you want that? I understand that you're pregnant and might be a bit paranoid -for lack of a better term -but there's no need to go to the extreme and become a hermit, dear."

"What's extreme is someone cursing me to prevent me from having children." Hermione said bluntly and Narcissa blanched. She sighed and took a moment to call for Frizzle and politely ask him to make a bottle for Aiden. When he was gone and she turned back to Narcissa, her mother-in-law still bore a look of deep regret.

"I'm sorry." Hermione told her. "And yes, maybe I am a bit paranoid, but don't I have the right to be? As far as I'm concerned _nothing_ is off-limits anymore. If anything were to happen to this baby or Aiden I…" She could feel her eyes watering, but she took a deep breath to keep them at bay. "I just want to play on the safe side. That's all."

"Yes," Narcissa nodded, a motherly ache for her daughter-in-law overwhelming her tremendously. "That...seems to be best for now."

* * *

"How's Hermione doing?" Blaise asked. He and Draco were having lunch in London today. The blond had taken the day off and had attempted to help with his wife's photo album project, but had been promptly shooed away. Apparently he was _too picky_ with how he looked in photographs.

"Morning sickness is kicking her arse." Draco smiled. "But once the afternoon hits she starts feeling better."

"Lucky her. With Liliana that plague called morning sickness hit her mornings, afternoons, nights… It was twenty-four seven."

Draco grimaced. "When did it stop?"

"Roughly early-middle of her second trimester. And then," Blaise grinned like a madman. "That's when the fun began."

Draco raised a brow as well as his cup of tea. "The fun?"

Blaise nodded. "That's right." He was still smiling and he gently pushed his food to the right and leaned forward. "Quick question for you, mate. When you and Hermione have sex, who usually initiates?"

Nothing could've stopped the huge gulp of tea Draco drank accidentally. It took a couple coughs to clear his throat, but he was still bemused.

" _Come again?_ "

Blaise was cheeky. He was enjoying this conversation far too much. "Who puts the moves on who? You or Hermione?"

Draco pulled at his collar. "Usually me, but why-?"

"And how often a week?" Blaise smirked when he saw his friend redden. "Come, come, Draco. Don't be shy."

"Four to five,"

Blaise was absolutely beside himself at that. "Work all week, rest on the weekends then, eh?" He chuckled and plowed on. "Well, say goodbye to your weekends. Here's what to do. You-"

Draco cut him off with a laugh. "Wait one second. Are you _seriously_ giving me sex advice?"

"No, no, not at all." Blaise countered with a lazy wave of his hand. "I'm giving you _pregnant_ sex advice. There's a difference."

"A difference?" Draco snorted. "You've got to be kidding."

"I _never_ kid about sex." Blaise said pointedly. Draco couldn't even disagree, but still shook his head in utter amusement. "Liliana had always been on the amorous side, but when she was pregnant? Once the morning sickness died everything else kicked in overdrive."

Now Draco was intrigued. Hermione was on the "amourous side" too, and considering that they had a pretty healthy sex life, he could only imagine… Draco pushed away his food and leaned forward as Blaise had done and indulged him.

"Fine, I'll bite. What's the advice?"

"Don't initiate anything." Blaise said plainly. "If four to five is your regular, guaranteed she'll crack in record time and attack -in a good way."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Record time meaning what?"

"Does it matter?" Blaise asked. "However long it is it'll be worth it."

* * *

Did "record time" mean one day? Draco prayed to Merlin that it was just one day. It wasn't that Draco couldn't restrain himself. His sense of self-control wasn't _that_ bad. But this was Hermione. His wife. The love of his life. And he was supposed to _abstain?_ Draco was going to murder Blaise if this didn't work. Better yet: castrate him.

When Draco got home he could hear a bath running which meant that either Hermione was taking one or giving Aiden one. Judging by the time he guessed that it was for Aiden and found that he was right when he found them in his and Hermione's private bathroom. He couldn't help but chuckle. They had bought Aiden a little baby tub to bathe him in, and yes he'll admit it, he'd been terrified about giving him a bath. Hermione too, and even now as she wiped Aiden's chest with a damp cloth she looked petrified. Determined, yet petrified nonetheless.

"Thank you." Hermione said. And when she didn't get a reply she smiled and added, "I said that to _you_ , Draco."

He grinned. "What did I do?"

"It's what you _didn't_ do, so that I'd be scared out of my wits."

Draco laughed. "You scare far too easily. When Aiden and the baby are old enough to walk and run we're going to have one heck of a time popping out from behind walls to frighten you."

Hermione's eyes widened. "I'll murder you if you do."

"Me? Probably? The children? Not so much. Their cute faces would keep you from being upset."

Hermione tutted and shook her head. "Slytherin tactics at work already. _Don't_ listen to your father." She added to Aiden. He looked up at her and then his eyes moved over to Draco. He gave a toothless grin that made Draco's pride swell.

"That half-smile, half-smirk says otherwise." Draco said triumphantly.

"Hell-oh-hell those are a lot of stairs." Mr. Granger's voice suddenly appeared. Hermione instantly scolded her father.

"Dad, language, _please?_ "

Mr. Granger chuckled as he stared at his grandson. "Aiden's first word isn't going to 'hell' because I said it once, sweetheart."

Draco was in hysterics. It wasn't long ago he had said that about Giana and now here was his father-in-law. He grew to like him more and more each day because of things like this. How could he not?

Hermione shook her head, a smile still tugging at her lips as she reached for a nearby towel and took Aiden out of the bath. "Aside from teaching Aiden terrible language, why did you tackle stairs that you hate?"

"Bless your mum's heart, I'm her errand boy." Mr. Granger sighed dreamily. "Dinner's almost ready. And you," he said to Draco. "Your own mother said to grab her before it started."

Draco nodded. "Alright,"

Everyone dispersed then to somewhere inside the house while Draco made his trek along a pathway that had been recently designed to go from one house to the other. He could've apparated, of course, or even Flooed, but it was the middle of August and the more than decent weather made it perfect for walking.

The journey on foot took about ten or fifteen minutes depending on how fast he walked. When he got to the house and found his mother sitting in the living room with nothing to keep her company except a heatless fire, Draco immediately knew something was wrong.

"What is it?" He frowned. Narcissa looked up at him and urged her son to sit beside her. Draco did, reluctantly, and kept his worried eyes trained on her. "Mother? Come on now, what's the matter?"

Narcissa took a deep breath before turning to face him. "Stress and worry are good for no one, Draco. _Especially_ pregnant women."

Draco felt his chest plumet. "What did Hermione say to you?"

"Well, it started when I suggested throwing a small gathering welcoming Aiden to the family as well celebrating her pregnancy, but she completely shot down the idea."

"Mother," Draco said with a slight smile. "Hermione was never one for great parties. You know that."

"The size wasn't what bothered her." Narcissa explained. "She was worried that someone might attack her again."

That wiped the amusement at his mother's expense _clean._ Narcissa witnessed her son's demeanor shift tremendously and she wasn't sure how to quite make sense out of it. Was it anger? Remorse? Sadness?

Draco sighed deeply and leaned back onto the couch, his eyes focused on the ceiling as a deep frown set in.

"I want her to feel safe with me."

Narcissa reached over and squeezed her son's hand. "As do I. And she will. With certain measures in place there'll be no doubt."

Draco slowly sat up and tilted his head slightly. "What kind of measures?"

Narcissa had her scheming face on, and when that happened Draco knew that whatever she proposed would have quite the impact. Her next set of words confirmed it.

"In a year and a half everything that solely belongs to your father will officially be yours."

Draco nodded. "I know. All of his properties, private accounts,-"

" _His investments,_ " Narcissa added carefully. "The Malfoy investments are inherited directly down the family line to the first-born child. Owner of said investments can do what he wills with them. Your father, such as his own father and so forth, has made it so dividends of those investments go to members of the family as well as those who have been supportive of us over the years."

"I already know all of this." Draco said exasperatedly. "Dividends are sent every quarter."

"That's right. But _you_ are not your father, Draco. Who's to say that they have to get any money at all?"

Draco blinked. "You want me to hold money over their heads in exchange to make sure they don't hurt Hermione?"

"Yes and no." Narcissa answered. "It will certainly help, but I'm thinking that you should add something a bit more...permanent."

* * *

 **Author's note:** Hmm, so many things I love here. Narcissa's plotting. I love it when she plots :).

-WP

Replies to Guests

 **MrsGinPotter:** Nothing wrong with crying! Cry away! That chapter was so cry-worthy. Hermione and Draco deserved all the happiness they could get!

 **naz:** Yey! A cry-fest it is.

 **KangBoRam:** Oh that chapter was such a feel-good chapter. Well, if this chapter is any indication, Narcissa has some safety measures she wants Draco to use. Can't wait for you to find out what they are :D

 **Guest:** Sorry, but your review only came out as an "H"! Regardless, thanks for reading :D

 **Megafan1:** Yey! Just happy feels all over. It's so long overdue lol.


	52. Protective Measures

Draco could always count on his mother. She was the pinnacle of protection. She made sure that her family was safe no matter the consequences, and he admired her for that. In a way, he couldn't help but see those traits in Hermione too. Someone fiercely loyal to him and everyone she cared about. That was why he'd do what his mother suggested. It was a bit on the extreme side, Draco had to admit, but considering the people he was dealing with extreme measures were necessary.

He, too, would do anything for his family.

"Alright, Draco. Talk to your wife."

Draco, who had already showered, dressed, and was under the covers in bed, turned in Hermione's direction. Well, the bathroom anyway. She had just turned off the shower and the smell of her shampoo was wafting into the bedroom.

"Hm?"

"Something's wrong with you." She said as she turned off the bathroom light and entered the bedroom. "You've been quiet since dinner and that's not like you."

Draco sighed and briefly rubbed his eyes. "Nothing's wrong, I promise. I just-" He paused. Somewhere between obscuring his eyes with his hands and pulling them away from his face, Hermione had stepped in front of her bureau. She had also ditched her towel on the floor beside her and was completely stark naked.

Hermione detected the pause and turned around. "You just…?"

Draco swallowed. "What?"

"You said, 'I just,' but you didn't finish."

"Oh," he replied somewhat breathlessly, and then let his eyes scrutinize every detail of his wife as she pulled out an underwear from her drawer and slip it on. To him it was all in slow motion and he was killing Blaise in his mind twenty times over.

"Well?" Hermione urged. She forgoed the bra as she always did when going to bed and slipped on a pyjama tank top and a pair shorts to match. Having her covered allowed Draco to finally think (sort of), but now he was back to his brooding.

Draco sat up in bed and said plainly, "I don't want you to have to hide because of my family."

Hermione instantly frowned. She briefly glanced at the floor as she rubbed her arms and fidgeted where she stood. "So, that's why your mother wanted to see you."

Draco nodded. He held out his hand and waited patiently for Hermione to walk towards him and crawl onto the bed. Once there he took her in his arms and leaned his cheek on her head.

"Your mother may think I'm hiding, but I'm not." Hermione said after a prolonged silence.

"She didn't exactly say that, but from what she told me, I can't help but think that's exactly what you're doing." Draco placed a finger under her chin and made her look up at him. "That's something that I _refuse_ to let you do. Gryffindors are supposed to be brave, aren't they?"

Hermione smiled. "A common misconception. There's a difference between _being_ brave and _valuing_ bravery. Besides," she took a deep breath. "Considering the...circumstances… Don't you think it would be better for me to keep myself safe? To keep Aiden and the baby safe?"

"Of course it would." Draco quickly agreed, his fingers gently caressing her face as he spoke. "But let _me_ determine how to do that. I'll take care of you, Hermione. _All three of you._ "

Hermione had closed her eyes at his touch, and she relished in the butterfly feeling she got when his hand settled onto her stomach. When she reopened her eyes she was startled, but didn't let it show. Draco's words had been sweet, but only now did she realize that there was an agenda behind them. His eyes were determined, hard almost, as though he had a surefire way to make due on his promise. Knowing full well what had happened to Tiberius, Hermione could only imagine what that method would be. However, for peace of mind sake, for once in her life she would rein in her inquisitive nature and not ask.

* * *

 _Dearest,_

 _While I appreciate the sentiments that you are trying your utmost to share, they are not as soothing as you think as I dwindle into nothing in this dismal place. I had hopes that everything I had sacrificed for would turn out as I had once envisioned it -without a maniacal leader, of course. And I had hoped that once I had received correspondence from you that the horrors that I have been hearing as of late would turn out to be false._

 _They were not._

 _How could you let Draco marry her?_

 _Yours,_

 _Lucius_

Narcissa ignored everything in the letter except the question. It had been her deepest regret to have not gotten the idea to send a photograph earlier so it could have accompanied the letter that _this_ was a response to. Lucius' words were upsetting, although she was not surprised. Azkaban or not, his deeply held and in-bred beliefs about the status of his family and societal pressures would be hard to eradicate -not that she had wanted him to. They made up who he was. Yes, they had led him down an incorrect path (and her too, if she was being honest), but beneath all of that was a man who cared and wanted the best for his family. That best had included a pureblood witch from a reputable home and Narcissa understood. It was what she had wanted for Draco too, wasn't it? But having seen with her own eyes how far her only child had come from the grips of despair to a joy beyond measure, even with unfortunate circumstances, Narcissa had realized that a pureblood wife may have been what she wanted, but it wasn't what he _needed._

How was Narcissa going to convince Lucius of that?

"Are you alright, Mother?"

Narcissa nearly jumped out of her skin. Instead she folded her husband's letter and turned to her son. "Draco," she smiled. "Don't you look...quite Malfoy-esque."

Draco glanced down at himself and grinned. He was dressed for a business meeting. A fresh pair of black pants, a crisp, ironed white shirt with the collar neatly turned down by his wife over a black jacket. He met his mother's gaze again and placed his hands at the edge of his pockets.

"Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Considering your audience in a few minutes, I'd say that it's a bad thing for _them._ " Narcissa answered proudly. "You've gone over everything with our private solicitor, yes?"

"Down to the punctuation marks." Draco replied. "There'll be no weaseling out of it should they choose to sign."

"Which they will no matter how much they protest. However," she made sure to add. "Do make note of the ones who make the most fuss. I'll want to make an impression on them for their unruliness."

Draco smirked. "Will do, Mother."

Draco bid his mother farewell and headed towards the fireplace in the next room over. From there he would use the temporary Floo connection to take him to one of three Malfoy properties, this one located in Northern Ireland. Belfast, to be precise. Draco had never asked why his father, or his father's father for that matter, had chosen this particular property to conduct the business meetings associated with Malfoy investments, but then again he hadn't cared. He hadn't been interested at the time, nor was he very much interested now. Family members, close family friends, and business associates received their dividends without fail because it was set up as such. There was honestly no reason to see anyone involved at all. A business meeting meant problems. It also meant changes. Draco could imagine the thoughts running through everyone's mind when they had received his owl asking for a summit just one week before their dividends were supposed to be sent. The chaos. The inner turmoil. They deserved it all.

Draco appeared out of the fireplace into the home he hadn't step foot in since he was fifteen, and even then he hadn't been allowed into the meeting room. As he opened the doors and walked into it for the first time, he nodded to himself at how well-kept and well-decorated it was. Not that he had expected anything different. There were bookshelves to the left and right of him -massive ones at that. They held such an innumerable amount that the sight probably would've made his wife's mouth water. Directly ahead of him was nothing but glass, a ceiling-to-floor window as it were. A chandelier hung high above, in the middle sat a large, oblong table. And at that table were the very people to whom his letter had been sent.

Uncles who were technically his father's uncles and cousins and their children seeing as Lucius didn't have any siblings. There were also friends of the family: Nott Sr., Greengrass, Parkinson. Draco let his thoughts linger on Parkinson for a moment because he knew that repercussions of this day would come either in the form of a Howler or a screaming witch in person, courtesy of Pansy. He was _not_ looking forward to that one bit.

"Alright, Draco," his Uncle Roland spoke first. "What's wrong?"

Draco smiled as he walked further into the room until he made it to the single seat at the head of the table. "Does something _have_ to be wrong? Perhaps I just want to get further involved in the Malfoy monetary affairs now that my father is...indisposed."

Greengrass chuckled. "Your father has been 'indisposed' for the past five years. _Now_ you want to be involved?"

Draco shrugged. "I didn't care much when I was younger. Times have changed."

"They certainly have." Another uncle of his added. "We have a mud- _muggleborn_ in the family."

It took great restraint on Draco's part not to react to the "near slip" of that horrid word. Instead he inclined his head and cupped his hands on the table.

"We do. And it's for that reason that I've called this meeting." Draco leaned back in his chair. "My wife and I have a son."

Murmurs immediately erupted around the table. Someone whispered, albeit much too loudly. "But I thought that Tiberius' curse-?"

Draco's eyes immediately landed on a cousin to his left. " _What?_ "

The man shrunk back, an innocent smile on his face and a chuckle on his lips. "I mean, we _all_ heard about that terrible misfortune with your wife. The Daily Prophet seemed fairly certain of her future inabilities to have children."

Draco sized the man up and down and scowled. "Yes… However, there _is_ such thing as adoption, Harlow."

"It's quite the shame really." An uncle to his right spoke. He was more like a great- _great_ uncle with his age, and of course the most prejudiced, clinging to pureblood traditions like it was a lifeline. "That 'son' you have will take no part in any of the Malfoy inheritances. Adopted means there's no Malfoy blood in him and therefore he is excluded. Draco, if you wish to maintain the inheritances you _must_ have an heir."

"And if he doesn't?" Nott Sr. questioned with a smile. "Who gets control, I wonder?"

"Not you," Draco's great-great uncle sniped at him. "You're not family."

"Whether he is or isn't doesn't matter." Draco interjected. He began to smile broadly at his next set of words. "There _will_ be an heir. My wife is pregnant, and there'll be a blood-born Malfoy in early March, late February. And that, gentleman is what brings us here today _and_ for this."

Draco pulled out a roll of parchment -a contract, to be precise, and set it on the table in front of him. "I'll be blunt: I don't trust any of you. My family is of utmost importance to me, and I'll do whatever it takes to ensure that they're safe from you and anyone you might use to hurt them."

Harlow huffed. "I must say, Draco. I'm appalled at the insinuation."

"You're a grown man, Harlow." Draco replied flippantly. "The feeling will pass."

"What's the catch?" Parkinson questioned. " _If_ any of us wanted to do your wife harm, a silly little contract wouldn't help."

"No, of course not. That's why there's an Unbreakable Vow embedded in it."

The sound of chairs scratching the floor and cries of outrage filled the room. In all honesty it sounded like music to Draco's ears.

"Disgraceful!" His great-great uncle shouted as he thumped his fist onto the table. "Absolutely disgraceful! You would condemn us all to die over one little mudblood?"

" _Muggleborn,_ Uncle Gideon," Draco corrected with a sneer. "And you'd only die if you broke the contract." Then he scoffed. "Would it truly be that hard _not_ to plot to torture and-or kill my wife?"

When Draco was met with silence he tutted and shook his head. "As it were," he continued, "the contract _won't_ kill you. However, if you violate the contract you'll wish that it had. Just ask Uncle Tiberius who screams and moans every minute of every single day and will continue to do so for the rest of his life."

The silence that swept over everyone now was less in opposition, but rather fear mixed with curiosity.

"What did you do to him?" Greengrass asked tentatively. Draco smiled.

"Break the contract and find out for yourself."

More silence.

"What if I refuse to sign?" Roland said defiantly. Draco merely shrugged and leaned back further in his chair.

"Then I hope you have money saved up. Your dividends will be henceforth revoked."

"You're joking!"

"I hardly kid about money."

"You can't do that." Nott Sr. growled. "Your father won't allow it!"

"My father is inconsequential to this arrangement." Draco snapped. "The moment he landed in Azkaban for an indefinite sentence everything that was his became _mine._ Mine to own and mine to control. That said, I can choose what to do with it. Whether you do or don't get your dividends is _your_ problem, not mine. So, you can either give up the coin or sign the contract, retract your devious claws away from my wife, and live a happily, rich ever after. Your choice."

Draco let his gaze pass over everyone as they pondered his words, and just for a few moments his heart ticked away anxiously. There was a chance, albeit a small one, that some of them wouldn't sign. There were a few who honestly didn't need Malfoy money to survive. If that turned out to be the case, he would have to come up with a new way to keep those who didn't sign in line. How, he wasn't entirely sure, but one step at a time he supposed.

Parkinson was furious, but he reached out his hand anyway. "Give me the damn contract."

Draco didn't smile although he was feeling more than triumphant. He floated the contract over with his wand and Parkinson grabbed it with unnecessary force. A self-inking quill followed shortly after. Parkinson only skimmed the contract, but then he paused abruptly and held the contract up to his face. Draco had expected this, and so he calmly reacted when the man growled out his confusion and frustrations.

"What is this? Potter? Weasley? This contract is supposed to protect your mudblood wife, not these people!"

"Call my wife a mudblood again and your dividends stop whether you sign that contract or not." Draco told him sternly. "And as for the additions you've pointed out, there's more than one way to hurt someone, and I won't run the risk of any of you doing so through her friends or family. Or my own and myself for that matter. That said, the contract will protect me, my mother, and Hermione's family and friends. Not to mention any children, adopted or not, that they have or will have in the future."

"Protecting muggleborns and blood traitors," Nott Sr. scoffed as Parkinson regretfully signed the contract. "If only your father could see you now."

Draco did his utmost not to grind his teeth. "Sign the contract."

Nott Sr. continued to grumble, but he signed. They _all_ signed. When the deed was done they all left the room in silent rage while Draco tucked the contract into the inside of his jacket. With a separate piece of parchment he had in his pocket, he wrote down Parkinson's, Nott Sr.'s, Uncle Roland's, and Uncle Gideon's names. Whatever his mother had planned to do with the ones who "made the most fuss" would be interesting, to say the least. He sighed when he was finished and felt accomplished. Hermione was safe. His children were safe. Maybe now they could finally live their lives without looking over their shoulders.

"Yes," Draco answered himself happily as he stood. "Time to tell Mother she can start planning that party."

* * *

 **Author's note:** An Unbreakable Vow in a contract. Deviously-planned by Narcissa and executed by Draco. What a pair they make lol. People better watch out!

Sorry for the delay, btw! You may or may not know, but I'm currently in school so homework assignments and all that come first. BUT! I'm always working on the next chapter, so never worry :D. Also, here comes some shameless self-promotion. I don't know why I didn't think to mention it before (sorry, don't murder me lol). About two months ago I self-published my first book on Amazon. It's called "The Keeper's Key" by Kelly Ashley and I am...really proud that I was able to do it. It occurred to me that some of you might be interested in reading something original that I wrote so I figured I'd share :).

Have a good Monday (Tuesday for some of you!)!

-WP

Replies to Guests

 **Narcissa:** That's a good way to describe Narcissa! She's definitely like the "head mother." Always making sure that her family is treated fairly and that no harm comes to them. It's truly a wonderful thing :)

 **Guest:** "I wonder what Narcissa..." Well, you finally know what Narcissa was thinking! They're all wonderful and I love how they interact. As for Hermione (lol), you'll find out how long it takes in the next chapter ;).

 **Guest2:** "YAY!" Wahoo! YES! Gosh darn it Hermione and Draco deserve this. I really did love that chapter too. Ron and Hermione in a close friendship is honestly how I view them. I can't see them any other way.


	53. Crack-Ups & Shake-Downs

"I'm calling it. They'll get married one day." Liliana beamed as she watched Giana and Aiden lay on a playmat. At four months they were getting more active than the tiny newborns they were before, and at the present moment Aiden appeared to helping Giana roll over onto her tummy by yanking on her hand. At least that's what the mothers were construing their clumsy children's movements as.

Hermione briefly smiled. "The Malfoy and Zabini line coming together? That smells like trouble."

Liliana laughed and nodded. "Definitely," she grinned as she continued to watch the kids. Then she turned to Hermione to share in the adorable little gurgles they were making when she frowned. Hermione was sitting in her armchair, watching the children just as she was, but it was plainly obvious that heart wasn't in.

"Oh, Hermione, what's wrong? Morning sickness? Are your hormones acting up? I know when I was pregnant my emotions were all over the place."

"No, no, it's not that." Hermione shook her head. "It's just… Well… Something's wrong with Draco."

"What?" Liliana screeched in alarm. "What's wrong with him? Is he sick?"

"No, he's not sick, but he… We haven't…" Hermione sighed and just decided to blurt it out. "We haven't had sex in a week."

Liliana's eyes bulged. "Really? Just last week Blaise was telling me that we have to up our game to catch up with you two."

"Yes, well, consider yourselves the champions." She brooded and cupped her face with her hands. "It's like he's avoiding me which is odd because I can tell that he wants to go at it. I just don't get it. And now I'm wondering if I've done something to keep him at a distance."

"Don't think that way! It couldn't possibly be you. I'd bet every dollar it's him. I wonder what's going on with him." Liliana tapped her chin. And then just like that her face lit up, and she began to eye Hermione with a gentle smile. "A week, you say?"

Hermione nodded.

"Right around the time when Draco and my trouble-making husband had that lunch?"

Hermione picked up on her friend's tone and let her hands fall from her face and to her lap. "I know that voice and that look. What is it?"

Liliana smiled and then laughed. "I think Blaise got into Draco's head -damn him."

The brunette furrowed her brows and sat back on the couch. "And said what? Not to sleep with me?"

"Precisely,"

Hermione blinked. "What? What on earth for?"

"To rattle your cage," Liliana replied simply. "Blaise, the little devil, did the same thing to me when I was pregnant. Took full advantage of my hormones and horniness with the hopes that I'd grow restless and throw myself at him."

Hermione huffed and irately crossed her arms over her chest. "That's absolutely ridiculous!"

Liliana smirked. "Were you ready to rip Draco's clothes off?"

The brunette fidgeted in her seat before meekly replying, "Maybe."

"Then I'd say it was well worth it -for him anyway. Although I must say that you held out longer than I'm sure he thought you would. And that's precisely why you'll probably have much more fun than I did when you execute your revenge."

"Revenge?" Hermione asked with a curious brow.

"That's right." Liliana nodded happily. "It'll make him drop to his knees faster than you can blink. And you've barely begun to show? Oh, yes, that'll make our task much easier. Come on, let's get Giana and Aiden ready and then out we go."

"Where are we going?"

"Shopping, of course."

* * *

Draco came home satisfied. He had a contract that kept Hermione, his children, and everyone who might come in harm's way safe. It lifted such a weight off of his shoulders that could've gone to Weasley's house for a social visit and not want to off himself.

Instead he stopped by his mother's so that he could hand off that list of miscreants she had asked him to take a note of. He had expected to be met with silence as he was accustomed, but his face was all joy when he heard Aiden's little laughs coming from the living room.

"I wasn't expecting to find you over here." Draco grinned as he walked over to the large bassinet that his mother had bought for when he spent time with her. He lifted him out of the bassinet and held him against his chest. "It's after nine, little one. You're supposed to be asleep."

"He was asleep when I left him." Narcissa walked into the room. "But obviously he knows when his father is around. How did it go today?"

"Better than I expected."

Narcissa pursed her lips in surprise. "They all signed?"

"Every last one." Draco gently shifted Aiden, who was having a blast drooling on his neck, so that he could fish out that list for his mother. Narcissa took it, lightly tutting at every name she saw.

"I shall have them over for dinner." She announced. Draco eyed her suspiciously.

"And do what?"

"For deniability reasons, I won't tell you."

Draco smirked, then chuckled, and glanced down at Aiden's whose big grey eyes were staring up at him. "If anyone ever messes with you, you know to go to your grandmother."

Narcissa beamed. "Naturally. I'm glad it all turned out well. That means I can get started on that celebration, the details of which have been swimming around my head for days now."

Draco shook his head. "Of course, but hold off on the planning just for a bit longer. I need to have a special talk with Harlow first."

"Harlow?" Narcissa furrowed her brow as she glanced back at her son's list. "His name isn't here."

"Because he didn't openly protest. But, I have reason to believe that he knows what Uncle Tiberius did to Hermione. And if he did, he might know a way to circumvent it completely." Draco sighed and used his wand to clear away the mass of baby drool that was slipping down his chest. "Hermione and I got lucky. There's no other way to describe it. I don't want any future children to be based on luck."

"I agree." Narcissa nodded. "Do what you must. In the meantime, off home you go while we let this little one finally get some rest."

"And my son isn't coming home with me, why?" Draco questioned as his mother carefully lifted Aiden out of his arms.

"I think Hermione's quite looking forward to having you to herself." Narcissa replied evasively. "She did leave Aiden here with me after all."

The wheels in Draco's head instantly began to turn. A boyish grin filled his features and he was far to excited to care that he probably shouldn't be too obvious with his mother present. Instead he kissed both his son and mother goodnight and practically ran across the massive piece of land that separated his mother's home from his own.

"Hermione?" Draco called once he opened the door.

"Bedroom!" She called back. Once again Draco was quick on his feet. He reached the bedroom that he shared with his wife in record time, but frowned when didn't immediately see her.

"Hermione?"

The brunette in question popped her head out between the crack of the bathroom door and grinned. "Hi," she smiled happily before disappearing behind the door again. Draco found the behavior odd, yet ridiculously tantalizing just the same. It could've also helped that they hadn't had sex in one full week. He was basically dying.

"What are you doing in there?"

"Trying something out." she replied from within the bathroom. "My morning sickness has finally stopped so I decided to treat myself."

"I see." Draco said as he closed, and locked, the bedroom door. "What did you buy exactly?"

"I bought this."

Hermione finally came out of the bathroom. Draco was on the verge of happy tears when she did. One thing about his wife was that she wasn't a lingerie-wearer. It wasn't her style, and that suited her fine. He quite liked her when she was simple. That, of course, didn't mean he didn't love it when she "shook things up." This was the very definition of that.

"That's what you bought?"

"Yeah." Hermione smiled with a gentle shrug. She looked down at the nearly see-through pink slip that hugged her body and stopped right at the top of her thigh. It could be a shirt, honestly. "I decided I wanted to be a bit freer with my nightwear for a bit. A good choice, don't you think?"

Draco swallowed and grinned. "Yes. A very, very good choice."

Hermione giggled a bit and sighed happily. "Good. Now you should hurry up and get dressed for bed."

She's caving… She's finally caving!

"Okay,"

"And once you're there,-"

Sweet Merlin. Blaise was right. It was worth it. It was definitely-

"-we can go to sleep."

Draco furrowed his brow. "What?"

"Sleep," Hermione repeated. Draco watched helplessly as his wife walked over to the bed and got under the covers. "We told Margie that we were going to pass by the Manor tomorrow morning to see how things were moving along with the orphanage, remember?"

"Right, but Hermione," Draco said as he stiffly headed towards the bed. He practically crawled onto it. "It's still early. We don't have to go to sleep right now."

Hermione laughed and leaned over to rub her hand over his chest. "You little night owl." She then pushed down the covers a little so that she could reach over and press her lips to his. The soft kiss she started with was turned deep by her husband in seconds. His hands were under her nightgown and on her waist quick enough, but before she lost her frame of mind or the purpose of this endeavor, Hermione pulled away from his teasing mouth and smiled.

"If you really insist on staying awake," Hermione said slowly. She remarked how dark and filled with lust Draco's eyes were and she was internally jumping in triumph. "Make sure you dim the light with your wand, okay? I don't want the light to disturb me."

Draco's face fell. Hermione, on the other hand, gave him one last kiss, tucked herself back into bed and settled neatly onto the pillows with her eyes closed. Draco sat back on his heels, his mind, heart, everything racing. He eventually got up, scratched his head, before groaning and heading towards the bathroom. He needed a shower. The coldest shower he could handle.

* * *

Blaise sat across from Draco and analyzed his best friend. The man looked...off. His hair was lacking its usual shine, his facial expression was grumpy and very reminiscent of years prior, and everything little thing seemed to be bugging him. Like mistakenly pouring in too much sugar into his tea.

"Damn it," he exclaimed and set the sugar down.

Blaise quirked a brow. "What's wrong with you?"

"You're what's wrong with me." Draco grumbled as he looked up. "It's been over a week, Blaise and she hasn't cracked. Not even a slip! What's worse is that she went shopping and bought lingerie. Lingerie, Blaise. And she's been wearing a new one every night for the past three days. If she pulls out another one tonight I'm going to die. I swear I am."

Blaise didn't say anything. He merely grinned like a madman because this sounded oh so familiar.

Liliana, you meddlesome witch.

He had to give Draco credit though. Blaise had only lasted two days when his wife had pulled the lingerie bit. Well-played by the women, he had to admit. Very well-played.

"What the hell are you smirking at?" Draco snapped.

Blaise chuckled and picked up his cup. "You're testy when your cock's on pause."

"If you don't stop talking I'm going to kill you."

Blaise smiled. "And murderous too. How charming…"

"You're not too far off with that last bit."

"Should I be protecting something of mine?" Blaise asked as he crossed his legs. Draco rolled his eyes.

"I wasn't talking about you." Draco told him. "I'm going to see my cousin Harlow after I leave here."

"Ah, yes. You told me about him in the meeting." He replied with a serious face. "Do you think he'll be helpful?"

"I'll make him be."

"Send a Patronus if you need help. Hermione's just as much family to me as she is to you."

Draco smiled. He knew Blaise meant every word of that and so he kept him in mind as he left his best friend's side and apparated the somewhat splinch-worthy distance it was from London to Aberdeen. Naturally, he didn't tell the man that he was coming. Luckily his cousin Harlow's habits were so uneventful a watch could be set by them. And so, at a quarter to four in the early evening when Draco knew that the man would be just finishing his tea and something light to eat, he knocked on the door of a very secluded home.

"May Tesley help you?" A small, frail house elf answered. Draco felt unnerved seeing him. Hermione's forced-upon house elf Frizzle was much healthier than this one. Clothed too. To see one looking so decrepit after being around one so well cared for was a drastic change.

"I'd like to see Harlow. You'll take me to him."

"Yes, sir." The house elf bowed. "Right away, sir."

Not his own house elf, but still one bound by the Malfoy family no matter the distance in relative. Draco was taken through the elaborate house until they made it to, not the second, but the third floor of Harlow's massive home. Perhaps Hermione was finally getting to him, but this was definitely much too much. Especially for a single person.

"Master Harlow, you have a guest."

"A guest?" Harlow repeated. He had been lounging on an armchair, sipping something dark, and staring into his fireplace. He turned around where he sat. "I'm not expecting any-"

He froze.

Draco smiled. "You didn't think I forgot about you, did you Harlow?"

Harlow gulped as Draco turned to the house elf.

"Leave."

The house elf bowed. "Yes, sir."

Draco turned around just in time to see Harlow busily trying to grab a handful of Floo Powder. The blond aimed his wand.

"Petrificus Totalus,"

The man froze for real this time and landed backwards onto the softly carpeted floor. Draco desperately wished it had been something harder. Instead he walked over to the man on the floor and kneeled beside him.

"Listen to me, Harlow." Draco began as calmly as possible. "I'm already in a foul mood and you are not on my favorite persons list right now. Considering those two conditions I would highly suggest that you answer my upcoming question before I torture you. Is that understood?"

Harlow could say nothing, but he did move his eyes which Draco took to be a sign of acquiescence.

"Good." Draco aimed his wand once again. He knew the perfect spell, an adjustment to the Body Bind spell, that let him loosen certain body parts while still keeping the bind intact. He did so for Harlow's head so that the man could speak.

"Now, what do you know of the curse Uncle Tiberius put on my wife?"

* * *

Hermione was smiling. She was turned sideways as she looked in the mirror and there, right there was proof of everything and that her doctors weren't making it up. To recall Lavender's choice of words, the brunette was finally showing a bit of "pudge." It was slight. Had she not known she was pregnant she would think she had eaten too much or was just bloated. But no. There was a little person growing in there and it made her eyes water.

Aiden's little laugh nipped that quickly, however. Hermione turned and grinned as she watched him in his playpen shake a toy like his life depended on it. She pulled down her shirt and leaned over him.

"You and your sibling are going to be a huge handful, aren't you?"

As evidence of that Aiden's toy went flying out of the playpen and onto the floor. Hermione laughed as she bent over to pick it up. When she did there was a loud knock that reached her ears. Normally anyone who came to see her or Draco would be arriving by Floo, so naturally she was intrigued.

"Come on then," Hermione said as she lifted Aiden out of the playpen. "Let's go see who's come to visit."

Hermione took her time going down the stairs. The closer she got to the front door the more she realized that it wasn't a "knock" at her door, but rather hideously loud bangs. She frowned.

"Who is it?" She called while still keeping a considerable distance away from the door.

"Draco Malfoy!" A feminine voice cried. "You get your arse out here this instant!"

Hermione knew that voice. She was also highly curious as to why she was screaming at the top of her lungs for her husband. Hermione used her wand to summon Aiden's bassinet. Once the boy was safely inside (not to mention a Muffilato Charm around him to keep the noise level down), she went to the door and opened it.

"Dra-! Oh..." Pansy paused. Not that she was embarrassed by her actions. She merely retracted the the hand that had been hammering away at the door and crossed it with her other arm. "Where's Draco?"

"Why do you want to know?" Hermione asked. She made sure to position her body well enough so that the obviously angry witch was barricaded from entering the house and so that Hermione's unborn child was out of immediate harm's way.

"It's none of your concern." Pansy huffed. "It's between Draco and I. Not you."

"Well, considering that this is my house, my door that you were trying to break down, and it's my husband that you're yelling for, I'd say it's very much my concern."

Pansy was completely red in the face. Any redder and she'd be mistaken for a tomato.

"You just love that, don't you. You've got a Malfoy, you've got the name, you've got the money. It was probably you who put him up to that dirty trick in the first place."

Dirty trick?

"Draco's an autonomous person." Hermione said, hiding her confusion as best she could. "He's more than capable of doing what he wants."

"We'll see about that." Pansy sneered. "My father will find a way out of that contract. I promise you that."

"He can try, but he won't." Came Draco's voice from behind Hermione. He stood beside his wife and leaned against the doorframe. "Last we spoke we were on good terms, Pans. I let you latch onto one of my cousins for Merlin's sake."

"That was before you cursed my father."

Hermione's eyes bulged, but Draco ignored her for the moment.

"I did what I had to."

"Did what you had to?" Pansy repeated in complete astonishment. "He's my father!"

"And Hermione's my wife." Draco said simply. "She takes precedence over everything."

Pansy blinked, completely taken aback. With a chin raised and a deep breath she replied, "Above lifelong friendships too, apparently." Then she looked at Hermione before replying, "You'd better be worth it."

Pansy disapparated on the spot. Hermione abruptly turned to confront her husband, but found him missing. Instead he had retreated into the house and gone over to Aiden.

"The mean lady didn't scare you, did she?"

"Muffilato Charm, Draco." Hermione told him. She watched him take it off as she closed the door behind her and folded her arms. "What was she talking about? You cursed someone?"

Draco cringed at the way her voice sounded. So...accusatory. He turned to her with their son in his arms, hoping that what he told her would sound less devious if he was cradling an infant.

"It's not as barbaric as Pansy made it out to be. You remember that meeting I held last week?"

"With the ones who profit off of Malfoy investments, yes. What of it?"

Draco took a deep breath. "I gave them an option. Either lose out on their dividends or sign a non-lethal Unbreakable Vow-embedded contract. The contract will keep them from hurting you and our family. Not to mention your friends or their respective families."

Hermione's mouth fell open. She let her hand blindly feel for an armchair that she knew would be behind her and finally sat down.

"Draco, that's… That's…"

"I meant what I said to Pansy, Hermione." Draco continued while she was speechless. "You come before everything. I won't have my family living in fear just because of who we are. Merlin knows I did enough of that." He added in a grim joke. "I just hope you don't think less of me for the methods I chose to keep you safe."

Hermione's face softened. "...A non-lethal Vow?"

Draco nodded. "And they had a choice. As it seemes, money was a hell of a lot more important than not harming you or the kids."

Hermione flinched. "Well, that's depressing."

"A bit," he agreed as he switched Aiden from one arm to the other. He looked down at his son, somehow falling asleep within the past few minutes. Then he looked at Hermione, slightly hunched forward, but properly seated or not baby number two would still be evident.

Draco grinned. "What would you do if I told you there's a chance we won't have to try as hard for baby number three?"

So much for slouching as Hermione sat straight up. "What?"

"More than one fruitful thing came out of my meeting last week, and today I proved it." He said as he set the sleeping boy in his arms back in his bassinet. "A cousin of mine let slip that he knew about Uncle Tiberius' curse. I paid him a visit today. And then I brought him to Healer Hasbrook and Dr. Lonnegan to confirm what he said before making a final pitstop with him to Potter's office."

Hermione leaned forward in eagerness. "And?"

"I don't want to promise anything, but as it looks right now? It can be removed."

It can be removed.

Those words hit Hermione's chest like she'd been punched in it. She hadn't even realized that Draco had walked over to her and was kneeling by her side.

"Hermione?" He waved his hand in front of her face. "Hermione?"

"How?" She asked weakly. "If they couldn't remove it before then how-?"

"Harlow gave Uncle Tiberius the curse." Draco informed her. "But he modified so that it could do the most damage. We didn't know that before. Now that we do, it's possible that we can try to get rid of it. For good this time."

Hermione felt sick. She closed her eyes and put a hand to her mouth as she felt bile slowly climbing up her throat.

"...It's too easy." Hermione shook her head. "After...months of trying you suddenly get everything you need with one shake-down of a person?"

Draco smirked. "You didn't see the shake-down."

"Draco, be serious."

"I am." He said as he gently moved her hand from her face. "And maybe, just maybe, things are working in a way so that we don't have to jump through a hurdle for once."

Hermione sucked in some air and sighed. "Are you sure about that?"

Draco didn't want to lie and say yes. Instead he stood and gathered her in his arms so that he could carry her to bed. She looked absolutely exhausted.

* * *

 **Author's note:** And it's here! Lol. Thanks for being patient with me :)

Replies to guests

Guest: Thank you! Glad that you did.

Guest2: Greedy doesn't even describe them! Like really? And you got your answer about Harlow :)

Guest3: Thank you! I'll keep trying my best!

Guest4: Haha enemies beware is right!


	54. Malfoy Women

Hermione didn't know when she had fallen asleep. What she _did_ know was that she woke up feeling awful. Not sick, but rather the feeling of dread and anxiety. She knew it had to do with what Draco had said about her curse last night. While a part of her was happy that he had shared the news with her, another part was horrified that he had. Healer Hasbrook and Dr. Lonnegan wouldn't be able to try a curse removal until after the baby was born, probably a few more months after that. And with that came the realization that she would have to wait to know. Her due date was March 5th. Factor in those extra months and then...what, a year? A year or more to find out whether future pregnancies would be a shot in the dark?

The brunette groaned and turned to roll over. She had intended to go back to bed, but the soft steam coming out of the bathroom attracted her attention. And then shortly after that were the sweet smells of roses and vanilla. Hermione had never learned to tame her curiosity, and so she crawled out of bed and slowly made her way into the bathroom.

The bathroom itself was a beautiful place. An odd description for a bathroom, yes, but Hermione really did like it. It had a shower immediately to one's left with a sliding glass door. The toilet and double sink was on one's right. Ornately carved wooden cabinets hovered over the sinks. A large, no-door cabinet was just beyond the shower. And two huge windows were above the long and wide tub that took two steps up to be able to get into.

That's where she found Draco. He wasn't inside of the tub, but rather pouring in the necessary oils and bubbles and adjusting the temperatures how he saw fit.

"That's quite the bubble bath you've got going there."

Draco looked up from what he was doing and smiled. "You don't know how long it took me to get it right. There _is_ such a thing as adding in too much bubbles, apparently."

Hermione laughed. She then stared at her husband amusedly as he headed towards her and began slipping her shirt over her head.

"After last night I figured you needed this." Draco told her. He hooked his thumbs onto the sides of her pyjama pants and underwear and let both fall to the floor. As she stepped out of them, and he was able to see her fully naked, he was desperately aware that it had been almost two weeks since they'd slept together. Despite how much he'd love to defile the bathroom with her on every surface possible, he (unfortunately) had more restraint than that. Hermione needed something much more than a shag right now.

"After you, Mrs. Malfoy."

Hermione giggled as she slipped her hand into Draco's and he ushered her up the two small steps into the bathtub.

"I never get tired of hearing you say that. Or...anyone for that matter. So much has changed in such a short amount of time."

"Thank Merlin," Draco said as Hermione settled neatly into the water and under a mass of white, foamy bubbles. "I don't even want to think about the pitiful mess I'd probably still be."

"Draco," Hermione smiled. "I hardly doubt you'd still be like that."

"That, love, is the realist in you. Let's go over the facts, shall we?" He sat by the side of the tub with a loofah in one hand and reached for hers with the other. She eagerly gave it to him and up and down he went with the lathery bath aid. "You seduced me with that damn white dress at the ball-"

"I didn't _actively_ seduce you-"

"Shh, I'm telling the story."

Hermione rolled her eyes and gave him her other arm to lather.

"After reassuring me that you weren't afraid of me nor that you hated me, you seduced me yet again in Hogwarts' library. Bravo yet again on that front-"

Hermione's skin flushed out of pure embarrassment.

"You encouraged me to go for the Dark Arts' division, whereas otherwise I wouldn't have wanted to. You helped me get into Auror training with that bastard Warren stopping me at every turn. You promised me that you'd always be here even when, not if, things got bad for us. And they certainly did," he said with a frown. The loofah was hanging limply in his hand by now and he relished in the feeling of Hermione hand on his arm. "Either you really love me or you're mad for staying."

"Can I be madly in love with you and leave it at that?"

Draco smirked. "That's the sappiest thing I think you've ever said to me."

Hermione laughed and then shrugged. "I'm pregnant and hormonal. Give me a break, will you?"

"Pregnant and hormonal," Draco repeated with a wide grin. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing you say _that_."

 _Damn hormones…_ Hermione thought to herself as she fought the urge to let a happy tear trickle down her face. Once she felt Draco's thumb across her cheek she knew for certain that it didn't work.

* * *

 _Cissa,_

 _They are our_ _allies_ _. If you allow Draco to go burning bridges what will we have left? You have already relinquished the Manor. Shall our monetary assets leave us as well? Shall we be reduced to some shack and nothingness all because Draco has lost sight of what is important? I suggest that you remind him before it is too late._

 _Lucius xx_

 _Lucius,_

 _With as much love as I can show with written words, I must remind you that it is not_ _we_ _, it is_ _I_ _. Legal proceedings have rendered Draco and I to handle things in your stead and this, whether you see it or not, is for the best. You cannot expect to move forward while following rules of the past. Not to say that positions on the social ladder hold no value. No, they hold a value worth more than rubies. However, it is_ _how_ _the game of socialites to be played that matters most and strategies, my darling Lucius, have changed greatly._

 _I must also remind you that Draco has his own family to take of now. He will do any and everything he can to ensure them a life to be envied. And, quite frankly, so will I._

 _Narcissa xx_

"Your guests have arrived, Mistress Malfoy." A house elf that had appeared at Narcissa's side squeaked.

"Thank you, Twinkle. You may go."

Twinkle bowed and disapparated. Narcissa sighed at the letter she had just penned and folded it neatly. She would sent it off after her guests had gone. No, she hadn't told Lucius of what Draco had done, and she knew that her son had yet to write to his father. Most likely it was one, if not several, of the men Draco had met with at the meeting last week. They must've poured their frustration out on parchment with the hopes that Lucius could do something to reign in his young son.

It was such a shame their ink was wasted.

With a sigh, she stood from her desk and went in front of the ceiling-to-floor mirror. She smiled at her reflection. She looked nothing like her age. That wasn't to say that she was _old_ , but aside from the very faint lines around her lips and eyes, her face still had a youthful appearance that she revelled in. The only weight she had ever gained in her life was when she was pregnant, and that was lost within a year of having Draco. Despite having a good shape (frequently told by her husband when he was amorous or by drunk party guests), she detested tight clothing. Anything that she wore was close enough to showcase her assets, but demeure enough to represent a proper Lady Malfoy and pureblood aristocrat.

Narcissa gave a final nod of satisfaction before taking her time to the salon where her guests would be.

"Narcissa," Gideon greeted. He stood with a slight shake but was fine once erect.

"Gideon," she said happily and gave him her hand to kiss. "It's been a while since we've spoken. I don't believe you attended Draco's wedding."

"Afraid not. You can understand why."

Narcissa resisted the urge to scowl. It wasn't ladylike.

"I do."

"I hope I'm not stepping over any boundaries in thinking that there are alternative motives for this dinner?" Nott Sr. questioned as he also gave her hand a kiss.

"Not at all." Narcissa admitted. "You are all key stakeholders in our endeavors _and_ our dearest family and friends. I desire no rifts between us, thus the dinner."

"It's no wonder Lucius married you." Roland said brightly. "A competent and understanding woman...and beautiful too."

 _How lovely… He's not even saturated with alcohol…_

"Let's move on to our dinner, shall we?"

"Let me escort you." Parkinson offered brightly and Narcissa allowed him to hook his arm with hers.

"While I do admire your new home, Narcissa, it will never replace the grandeur that was Malfoy Manor." Roland said as they walked.

" _Nothing_ will ever replace the Manor in its grandeur." Gideon answered with obvious distaste. "How exactly did the little mudblood beguile you into turning it into a squatter's den?"

Narcissa's patience was absolutely remarkable.

"While my daughter-in-law may be a _muggleborn_ , she's actually quite gifted in persuasion."

Gideon scoffed. "And what do we get out of her getting her way?"

"Clearly you haven't been reading the Daily Prophet, Gideon." Narcissa admitted as she glanced back at him. "Our family name has been in a favorable light as of late. Like it or not, Hermione will continue to wash away what has marred us in times past."

Roland sighed. "An unfortunate truth. The name 'Malfoy' will forever be associated with that orphanage. A beacon of hope for little children everywhere."

Nott Sr. scoffed. "You sound like a salesman, Roland."

"Selling a bad product on top of that." Parkinson chuckled.

They had all finally reached the dining area and sat. Narcissa was at the head of the table (of course), while her guests sat on both her left and right. She imagined Lucius sitting at the other head of six-person dining table. Regal. Poised. No nonsense, but still witty.

It suddenly dawned on Narcissa that she had never hosted men to dine before. In pureblood customs it was always the man of the house to host such occasions. If it was the wife, it was only for couples, men _and_ women. Tiberius didn't count. Draco had been there and therefore was co-host. _This_ situation, however, was strange, although not unwelcomed. It was funny where circumstances landed a person.

The dinner wasn't out of the ordinary. They talked. They laughed. Roland commented on Narcissa's beauty more times than the woman could count. It was flawless.

Now it was time for calculated chaos.

"Well," Narcissa said pleasantly as she set her wine glass down. "Now that we're all properly fed, I think we can discuss the matter weighing heavily on your hearts."

"Yes." Gideon nodded. "What in Merlin's name is wrong with Draco? That contract he made us sign was-"

"Heinous," Nott Sr. finished bitterly. Narcissa gently nodded.

"Heinous, yes, but brilliant." She answered. "An Unbreakable Vow in a contract… My son's level of creativity is praiseworthy."

Roland cocked a brow. "Praiseworthy?"

"Oh yes," Narcissa beamed. "However, I must take credit for suggesting that he do something about the unruly lot that has a vendetta against his family."

Narcissa, who had slipped her wand from an invisible pocket on her dinner gown, whipped it out and flicked it quickly. The men at the table were startled when straps shot out and wrapped around their torsos and arms.

"What's the meaning of this?!" Parkinson shouted as he pulled against the straps. "What-?!"

His words were silenced, as well as everyone's, with another wave of her wand.

"I would like _not_ to be interrupted, thank you." Narcissa set her wand down on the table and neatly cupped her hands on its edge. "Now, listen to me carefully, yes? Hermione Malfoy, née Granger is Draco's wife. They have a son and another child on the way. They are Draco's family, and he will do _everything_ in his power to protect them and he has.

'You think his contract and the financial conditions are strict. I understand. However, considering that Hermione was cursed into nearly complete infertility _by someone in the family_ , extreme measures were necessary.

'Yes, she is a muggleborn. Yes, I had my fair share of reservations concerning her. But those reservations have long since dissipated, and I think of her, quite dearly, as my very own.

'That said, Hermione, Aiden, and her unborn child are _my_ family, and I don't appreciate your cries of outage towards them. With the contract signed you have no choice but to behave. Unfortunately, that only controls behavior, not verbal abuse. Calling her a mudblood, for example."

Narcissa sighed, picked up her wand and rose from her seat. Their eyes followed her with trepidation.

"You see, I'm planning a party to celebrate Hermione's pregnancy, but the last thing she needs is stress. You four," she eyed them all, " _are stress._ And so, as a little incentive to be on your best behavior, I'm going to give you a taste of what Tiberius feels every day as he rots in his Azkaban cell."

Narcissa headed over to Roland first. Merlin, how she disliked him the most. With a gentle hand on his shoulder, she set the tip of her wand in the middle of his chest. She could see his face from her periphery and how scared he looked.

 _Good._

She didn't say the curse out loud. None of them needed to hear it. However, there was something that _she_ needed to hear, and so when she was finished with her curse she took off the Silencing Charm.

Roland's scream ricocheted off the walls.

"What…? What did you do?! My body hurts… Everything... _gah!_ "

"Right now your insides feel like they're being ripped apart." Narcissa told him. " _That_ is what I did."

She walked over to Parkinson and relished in his thrashing when she got near. She cast the curse again, once again taking off the Silencing Charm. Again for Nott Sr., and then finally for Gideon. The lucky man received partial effects of her curse solely because he was elderly. The last thing Narcissa wanted was for him to die at her table.

When she was finished, she returned to her seat and happily gazed upon the situation, not to mention listening to their cries of pain. After a near half an hour of the same shouts and cries of agony, she removed it and stared as they all caught their breath.

"Is there anything that you all would like to say?" She asked sweetly. No one said a thing. She took that as a good sign and finally released them from their chairs. "Well, that was a lovely dinner." Narcissa smiled. "I'll have a house elf show you out. And do look for my owl with the invitation to the party."

* * *

After her bath, Hermione spent the rest of the day at St. Mungo's. Lavender had gone into labor and while Draco stayed home with Aiden, she had popped over to the hospital with Harry, Ginny, and the rest of the Weasley clan. Despite being in labor for ten hours, the new Weasley seemed quite determined not to come out. Being pregnant herself, Hermione had grown tired and had been granted permission from Ron to head home and that he'd owl her with any news. Gracious for the leave, she exited her fireplace at home near eleven pm.

She stopped in Aiden's room first, finding him sound asleep as she expected. Draco wasn't there, nor in their bedroom when she got there, and she furrowed her brow, wondering where he could be. Regardless, she thought it a perfect opportunity to wear the final piece of lingerie that she and Liliana had picked out last week. Hermione had to admit that her husband was a trooper. He was lasting much longer than anticipated which was both commendable and annoying. Today would be the last day. By tomorrow morning he was going to wake up to unmentionable things being done to him to make up for the lack of intimacy they usually shared.

Satisfied, Hermione pulled out the piece that she prayed mercilessly would make Draco drop to his knees. She pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor, and shimmied out of both her pants and underwear. She stretched out for the lingerie, but snapped her hand back when it flew off the dresser and onto the floor.

"Don't even _think_ about putting that on." Draco said from the doorway, his wand in hand. Hermione looked at him over her shoulder and smiled.

"Why?"

"Because I am sick and tired of seeing clothes on you."

Hermione practically shivered where she stood. Either his words had really gotten to her, or they had been out of it for so long that anything he did at this point would send her into a pool of mush. Draco, that damn man, had noticed, and was grinning like a madman.

"Oh look, she blushes." Draco said as he closed the door behind him and tossed his wand onto the bed.

"I'm not blushing."

"Yes, you are. Now...what was that word that made you red again?"

Hermione fully turned around and leaned back against her dresser. "I haven't the foggiest clue what you're talking about."

"I think you do." Draco grinned as he walked over slowly, fully enjoying the deep breaths she was taking that made her chest rise and fall and hypnotize him. "It starts with a 'P' and ends with an 'O.'

"You should check your spelling." Hermione chuckled. She let Draco uncross her arms and she was fully aware of how his attention wasn't on her face.

"So, now you know what word I'm talking about, do you?"

Hermione grinned. "I do. And the word pleasure,-" she stopped talking _immediately_ when she felt her husband's mouth latch onto her breast, his tongue happily playing with her nipple. "The word pleasure doesn't end in an 'O.'"

Draco stopped and smirked, proceeding give both breasts a kiss before kissing, sucking, and leaving gentle licks down to her navel.

"It does when you do it right."

 _Damn his word play…_ Hermione thought, and it was the last coherent one she had. His kissing and licks had continued between her legs. She rest her hands on his shoulders and knew that she wouldn't last long. Not when he started doing a devilish thing and started _spelling out_ the very word that often made her heart race and her skin flush.

She recognized what he was doing at the beginning of his "E" and emitted a groan. On the "S" she had held his shoulders tightly and bit on her own lip. At his "R" he had gripped her hips and arse to keep her steady because he could feel her starting to buckle just before she came undone.

Draco softly laughed and swiped his tongue over his lips as he rose to his feet. He brushed his mouth near her ear and whispered, "I told you I could spell."

His voice sent a tingle down her spine and a feral-like sound escaped her as she brought his face to hers and kissed him. She could taste herself on him and let out an involuntary, yet contented gasp when she felt his fingers enter her briefly.

"Teasing isn't fair." Hermione grumbled. Draco had to disagree, but he wanted his release too, and her at expense.

Draco let Hermione (roughly) take off his shirt, her hands making busy work of his pants until they fell with a soft thump to the floor. No sooner than he stepped out of them did his overeager wife wrap her legs around his torso and he closed his eyes in a fit of his own pleasure as she stroked him.

"Hermione," he breathed as her ministrations changed from simple stroking to outright pumping until he stopped her and slipped himself inside of her. His first thrust was slow, as well as the second, but the rest was hardly as gentle nor did Hermione care. It was a sharp and welcomed shock to her core each time. She let her head fall back, vaguely aware of the sounds of things falling off their dresser. Some breaking, some not, but the noise was quickly obscured by both her uncontrolled shouts and gasps for air and Draco repeating her name onto her skin.

It was Draco's turn to come undone and he shuddered while his wife planted little kisses along his shoulder.

"I am never waiting this long again." Draco sighed contentedly. Hermione grinned.

"That's what you get for listening to Blaise."

Draco snapped his eyes to her. " _You knew?_ "

"That you were trying to take advantage of your pregnant wife?" Hermione smirked. She kissed him on the nose and ruffled his hair even more than it already was. "Not the whole time. Liliana clued me in."

"...And then you went shopping." He chuckled. "Damn it, woman, you could've killed me with those outfits."

Hermione laughed. "That's good to know. Now, no more experimenting with me."

"Done," he kissed her cheek, and then her forehead. "And done."

* * *

 **Author's note:** DRACO CAVED! Lol. And you have yourselves to thank for Narcissa's scene as I wasn't originally going to include what she did to those who protested. Thanks for being so patient with me. Classes begin yet again on Monday. Help me... (hugs needed).

Replies to Guests

 **Guest:** "Oooh" -Glad that you liked it!

 **Guest2:** "Awesome chapter!" -You're right. They deserve to be happy after everything! Oh Lucius. More of him in future chapters ;)

 **KangBoRam:** Hahaha Draco needs a medal. Honestly lol.

 **Guest3:** "YAY!" -Keep those fingers crossed! Welp, Draco gave in LOL. If he waited until the morning he would've on hahahaha.


	55. Malfoy Fathers

Rose Lavender Weasley was born on August 29th at five in the morning. Accompanied with Ron's letter detailing his greatest achievement to date was also a letter from Narcissa. An invitation, really, to a party where Hermione herself would be the guest of honor. Needless to say, the brunette was shocked, _especially_ when she had told her mother-in-law that she had wanted to stay out of the limelight.

"She finished taking care of the problem." Draco said sleepily to her left. Hermione looked over at him, the appalling invitation in her hand.

"What do you mean?"

Draco yawned and rubbed at his eyes. "I made sure no one would hurt you with my contract. Mother made her impression on those who posed the most threat."

Hermione arched a brow. "Wouldn't your contract already do that?"

"From physically harming you, yes. But it doesn't control their mouths, or so Mother insisted." He was wide awake now and sighed as he looked at his wife's growing stomach. "Stress is stress, Hermione. You don't need any of it."

Hermione smiled. She looked back at the letter and nodded to herself as she folded it back up.

"Do I want to know what she did?"

"I'll tell you as a bedtime story tonight."

 _So dramatic…_ Hermione couldn't help but think. But could she honestly expect anything different? This was the man raised by the woman who had sent her an invitation with a date of December 25th, 2003. A formal unveiling of Narcissa's daughter-in-law, who would be two months shy of giving birth by then, and her grandson, who at eight months would steal the show, on Hermione and Draco's one year wedding anniversary.

Hermione chuckled. Narcissa Malfoy certainly had a flare for the extravagant.

* * *

The next three months were a bit of a blur, but they were happy ones as evidenced by the _numerous_ Daily Prophet articles that had taken to writing about the Malfoys in that space of time.

 _The Malfoys:_

 _One Son Already, Another On The Way!_

 _The Malfoy Home for Children Welcomes Seventeen New Kids_

 _A Dark Past Helps:_

 _Draco Malfoy, Promoted to Lead Auror (Dark Arts Division)_

 _War Heroine Turned Teacher?_

 _Hermione Malfoy to Add a Learning Center to The Malfoy Home for Children_

Hermione and Draco were on a fast track, that was for certain, and they were loving it. Nothing ill had befallen them in these past few months and, given their record, that was a miracle. The _only_ thing that was troublesome was the unhappy and perhaps angry expression on Draco's face every two to three weeks. It was slight, but Hermione knew her husband well enough to catch it. Something was wrong and irked her to the core that he wouldn't tell her.

Her first assumption as to why was that he didn't want to stress her. Annoying, but a valid point. Healer Hasbrook and Dr. Lonnegan said that her pregnancy was moving along swimmingly despite the circumstances, but had emphasized one thing: _little no to stress._ Draco had taken those words to heart and tried his best to keep her calm at all times. Of course, that led her to want to wring his neck at all times, but she kept in mind that his overprotective nature was coming from a good place.

It wasn't until this late November that Hermione figured out why her husband was so agitated.

She was in the Owlery (a broad term considering there was only one owl). She was smiling and reading a letter from Lydia who had just wrapped up an assignment in Turkey and could finally make contact with her family and friends. Hermione had dipped her quill in ink, ready to respond, when another owl came through the charmed window. It dropped a letter on the reception desk for all correspondences and left. That was normal. What _wasn't_ normal was the fact that the letter disappeared. Vanished. Completely went poof.

Hermione was more than confused and set her quill aside to get up (with minor difficulties) to inspect the place where the letter has gone from. Maybe she hadn't seen when it fell? And so she leaned over a little, but saw nothing. Her lips were set up in a frown now from this odd puzzle.

"For heaven's sake, you're a witch." She scolded herself and took out her wand. She pointed it's tip to where the letter had been before and performed a tracking spell. The spot lit up and a red streak of magic led it's way out of the Owlery.

Hermione abandoned the room and followed it to the study. Draco was there, standing in front of his desk, when the red light went over his shoulder and settled somewhere in front of him.

"What the hell…?"

"Why are letters materializing into your desk, Draco?"

Draco turned around and faced her like a child caught with a mouthfull of forbidden candy.

"It's nothing."

Hermione pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "Really? Can I see it?"

Draco's face seemed to drain of color, and he swallowed deeply. "I already said that it's nothing. You really don't have to-"

"I may not have to, but I _want to._ " Hermione replied sternly. "We don't hide things from each other. Now, move away from the desk."

"What?" He blinked rapidly.

"You heard me."

"Hermione," Draco begged. "It's really nothing to trouble yourself with. You don't need the stress."

"What if I told you that _you're_ the one causing me stress? Does that change things a bit for you?"

Her husband instantly looked at her stomach and then sighed. He did as she said, going even further to open the drawer he had been standing in front of, and shifting things aside to pop up a faux bottom. Hermione's curiosity was twice as piqued now and she walked over.

There was more than one letter there. Six or seven on first glance, and his name elegantly written on top.

"Open one," Draco told her. Hermione did, and her mouth dropped when she saw the name signed at the bottom.

"Your father's been writing you?" Hermione exclaimed. "And…you haven't written him back?"

"No."

"But he's your father. How could you not write him back?"

"I have nothing to say to him."

Hermione's face fell. "But-"

"Why would I?" Draco snapped. "Honestly, why? This is the same man who encouraged his sixteen-year-old son to join ranks with the most evil man the wizarding world has ever known.

'I know that I can't put all my blame on him. I'm an autonomous person and I made my own decisions too, but most of them were in the confines of what my father built."

Draco sighed and glanced at the open drawer with his father's unopened letters. "I can't talk to him, Hermione. Not without feeling angry about the life he designed for me."

Hermione frowned bitterly. She hadn't seen Draco this upset in months and it worried her. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as the baby began to move and placed a hand on her stomach. Draco's instant panic was evident.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

She reopened her eyes and smiled. "Nothing. He's just a little restless in there."

Despite her answer or smile Draco was _not_ soothed. "This is precisely why I didn't want to tell you."

"Draco, it's normal," she tried to calm him. "It's a baby. Babies move."

"Not helping," he replied agitatedly. "Can you put back the letter and go rest now?"

Hermione knew when talking to Draco was pointless and gave in. She returned the letter to its place and watched as her husband fixed back the faux bottom.

"He's just going to keep writing you, you know."

"And they'll end up right here when he does."

"Right…" Hermione answered with a bite of her inner jaw. "But do you want to know what conclusion I've come to?"

Draco side-glanced at her and gave a subtle nod to continue.

"If you _really_ didn't want to talk to your father, you would've thrown the letters away."

Draco stood frozen, at a loss for a rebuttal. His wife gave him a kiss on the cheek, a gentle squeeze of his arm, and then left the room. He continued to stay there, his thoughts on those letters that yes, he did try to burn once, but…he couldn't do it.

* * *

"Congratulations!" Everyone shouted, Hermione included. Ron was beaming, as was Lavender as she held their three month old daughter.

The Burrow was at max capacity with an innumerable amount of Weasleys and friends. Ron had proposed to Lavender just the night before and Molly had drained her supply of ink, parchment, and food to throw the couple an engagement party.

Hermione, quite unashamedly, stayed close to the dessert table. Her soon-to-be-born son had a ridiculous sweet tooth and she couldn't help but be drawn to anything coated in something sugary. Like chocolate. _Definitely_ chocolate. And thank Merlin that the dessert table was full of it.

Harry spotted her from across the way and walked over. However, instead of saying hello, he stooped over a little and spoke to her stomach.

"You're going to make your mother rot her teeth. Don't you know your grandparents are dentists?"

Hermione was careful to finish chewing and swallowing before she laughed hysterically.

"I'll have you know, Mr. Potter, that this," she picked up a piece of pineapple, "is fruit."

"Yes, fruit," Harry nodded. "Fruit that you're about to dip into a fountain of chocolate. Hermione, that combination is disgusting."

"Well, I hope you don't mind me nitpicking your eating habits when _you_ get pregnant."

Harry grinned. "Alright, alright, I get it. Don't critique a pregnant woman. Noted. Where's Malfoy?"

"Home with Aiden," Hermione answered as her fingers hovered over what else she wanted to eat. "According to _him_ , Aiden's 'far too ill to be surrounded by those muggle _germ things_.'"

"I see. Using the kid as a way to get out of being around twenty plus Weasleys."

Hermione smiled. "Precisely. Aiden's actually doing much better than yesterday. Although, despite Draco's true reasoning, he's sort of right. Better to keep him sheltered, if just for another day. What?"

Harry had been staring at her intently and after a moment he sighed contentedly. "Nothing, you just… You look really happy, and I'm glad."

Hermione's heart swelled at that and she reached over for a hug. "I am happy, Harry. Thank you."

"Hey, _I'm_ the one getting married," Ron's voice came out of nowhere. "Where's _my_ hug?"

Hermione laughed and pulled one arm from Harry in order to grab Ron to join. She hugged her friends tightly and at that moment she was so thankful to have them. Not to mention that she was proud. Looking back on where they all started to where they were now in their adult lives, it was nice. Ups and downs, yes, but ultimately everything was okay.

"Where's Uncle Draco?"

The trio broke apart and looked down at the blonde little girl staring up at them.

"Where's Uncle Draco?" Victoire asked again with a pout. Hermione smiled at her gently.

"He's at home. Aiden's a little under the weather so he stayed with him."

"Oh…" Victoire shuffled her feet a little before she glanced at Ron and Harry before saying at a whisper, "Can I tell you a secret?"

Ron and Harry immediately took the hint and pretended to be deciding what dessert they wanted while Hermione bent down as low as her stomach would allow towards Victoire.

"Of course, what is it?"

"This party is boring. Can I go to your house and stay with Uncle Draco?"

Hermione's smile broadened and she giggled. "You'll have to ask your parents and then they can take you."

Victoire's face lit up and she ran through the crowd until she found her father. Hermione shrugged towards Harry and Ron before waddling after her.

"Mummy, can I go to Uncle Draco's house?"

Fleur paused her conversation with Molly and looked down at her daughter.

"You want to go _where?_ "

"Uncle Draco's house, please." Victoire said pleasantly. "I want to play with him."

Fleur seemed quite at a loss for words. Molly was beaming and gave her granddaughter a tiny pat on the head.

"Well, aren't you sweet?" She turned to Fleur and said, "It can't hurt. Besides, this party is for grownups."

"Yeah!" Victoire agreed. "Grownups, and I'm a little girl!"

Fleur laughed, sighed, and shook her head. "Oh, alright. But ask your father too. 'E can take you if 'e says yes."

Victoire squealed in delight and took off to find her other parent. He was talking to Andromeda while a bored out of his mind Teddy stood next to her.

"Daddy," Victoire approached him. "This is a grown-up party, and I'm a kid, and it's no fun, and I want to play with Uncle Draco at his house. Mummy already said yes."

Bill stared blankly at his daughter who had said quite a mouthful. Hermione was trying her hardest to keep a straight face but it was too adorable.

Teddy had heard every word and his mouth dropped as he turned to his grandmother.

"Can I go too?" He asked her. " _Please!_ "

Andromeda shared a look with Bill who gave a resigned sigh.

"Okay. I'll take you both."

* * *

Draco was exhausted. It had been a while since he'd taken care of Aiden by himself and he promptly decided that Hermione needed a day to pampered. Maybe a week.

His son was alseep now after having to hold and rock him for a straight two hours. Not to mention walk all through the house while doing it. All he wanted to do now was sit right there on his favorite couch, close his eyes, and-

"Hi, Uncle Draco!"

"Hi, cousin Draco!"

"Why do you call him cousin?"

"Because he is. My Nan told me."

Draco snapped his eyes open to find Victoire and Teddy standing in front of him, both with wide grins on their faces. Bill was behind them and he was highly amused.

"You've got admirers."

Draco furrowed his brow as he glanced from one child to the other. "So I see."

"The party got boring so they wanted to spend the rest of the time with you." Bill explained. "I don't know what the h-e-l-l you've done to bewitch the kids, but they're fascinated with you."

Victoire gasped. "You spelled a bad word! Mummy's not going to like that."

"Mummy doesn't like when I _say_ bad words, not spell them."

Draco chuckled and gave the eldest Weasley a mental "touché.

"I'll grab them after the party, deal?"

An inner panic gripped Draco at having to handle two five year olds alone, but he nodded either way.

Bill smiled. "Good. I'm off then. Victoire, Teddy, be good."

Both children nodded and watched as Bill left. Once he was gone they climbed onto the couch, one on either side of him. Suddenly Draco felt like he'd been set up.

Teddy opened his mouth first. "Do you know how to play wizards and dragons?"

"Oh!" Victoire squealed. "I love wizards and dragons. Can you play, Uncle Draco?"

"Um," Draco cleared his throat. "I've never heard of it."

"It's fun!" Teddy said happily. "You're either a wizard or a dragon. And the wizard has to get the dragon."

"But the dragon is mean," Victoire added. She raised her hands and curled her fingers like they were claws. "And the dragon tries to get you too!"

"Do you want to be a wizard or dragon?" Teddy and him. Draco grinned.

"Dragon," he replied. "But before we play I have to put Silencing Charms on Aiden's bedroom door so we don't wake him."

"Can we come?" Victoire asked.

Draco nodded, and the two little ones hopped off the couch to follow him. On the way one grabbed his hand, the other did the same, and he instantly thought of the future. Him holding onto his sons' when they reached this age.

"Aunt Hermione said he didn't feel good." Victoire frowned as she looked at the door.

"He doesn't, but he's much better today." Draco answered and then proceeded to cast charms so Aiden wouldn't hear anything. Draco would still be able to hear _him_ though.

"Alright," he turned to the two eager-eyed children. "Are you ready?"

Teddy and Victoire nodded enthusiastically. Now, Draco had never been a dragon before, nor had he ever done something so childish -even from his childhood. However, he would attempt to be the best dragon there was.

"Okay then…" Draco, feeling foolish, but doing it anyway, raised his hands like Victoire did. "You'd better try to get me before I get you!"

Victoire and Teddy laughed and yelled, both running down the hall as Draco chased after them. That night he ran. He tickled. He gave a "dragon's roar" because Teddy said that dragons have to. In the end Draco gave in and let them tackle him to the living room floor. And then they settled onto the couch as he read them one of Aiden's bedtime storybooks. Between getting read to and running around all night, Teddy and Victoire eventually fell asleep.

Draco did too.

* * *

When Hermione and Bill came back to the house it was after midnight. They were sure that the children would've fallen asleep by now, and so Bill had packed a small bag with pyjamas and extra clothes for his daughter while Andromeda had done the same for Teddy. What they _hadn't_ expected, however, was to find them and Draco sleeping deeply on the living room couch downstairs. All three of them seemed completely tuckered out, and Hermione was absolutely beside herself at how the children clung to Draco's arms like they were their favorite toys.

"I swear she loves him more than me." Bill said with a shake of his head. He then looked over at Hermione and smirked. "What is it? The hair?"

Hermione laughed quietly. "Why are you asking me?"

Bill shrugged. "You married him."

Yes, yes she did. And it was definitely more than the hair.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Draco...is... ADORABLE. So many pleasant feels. And some not so pleasant concerning the ole Lucius. More on that front later!

I'm also happy to announce that my stories Happily Divorced and Need both won for the Enchanted Awards Summer 2017. My first win for anything! So, thanks for reading, voting, and just all-around support :)

-WP

Replies to Guests

 **KangBoRam:** Wasn't she?! Lol. I love her so much! Mwuahahaha...

 **Guest:** "Haha aww..." Glad that you liked it! Hope you enjoyed this ball of fluff chapter too :D

 **Guest2:** "Awesome update!" Thank you!


	56. On Christmas Eve

**Author's note #1:** Trigger warnings ahead concerning Hermione's pregnancy and sensitive themes overall. Please be wary as you read if you feel uncomfortable. You're welcome to PM me if you want details on what happens before you read. I do promise a HEA at the end of the chapter. Thanks.

* * *

"Your husband is going to make me kill him," Lydia said as she scanned the letter Draco had sent her. "We were in training together! He knows good and well Uriel and I wouldn't let you drown or something…"

Hermione laughed. She and Aiden had spent the night with Lydia and Uriel while Draco had been called away by the Ministry to handle a case that had cropped up in the middle of the night. The night before Christmas Eve, no less. But it was fine. She hadn't spent much time with them lately, so it was a nice trade-off. Draco promised that he would be home by the next day, and in the meantime the Harper household had been disturbed by three consecutive owls from him asking how Hermione was. In those letters he had provided a list of Dos and Donts when caring for his pregnant wife and for that, Lydia had murder on her mind.

"Draco's just nervous," Hermione smiled. Then she laughed when Aiden leaned over and grabbed the letter from Lydia's hands and proceeded to make large pieces of confetti from it.

"That's my sweet boy," Lydia grinned broadly. "Show your daddy that he's crazy."

"Nervous," Hermione corrected. "Not crazy."

"What on earth for? We just spent the past twelve hours catching up and everything's a dream for you right now. Your St. Mungo's visits, his job, your orphanage-"

"Precisely. I guess we're sort of waiting for the shoe to drop, you know?"

Lydia frowned. "You too?"

Hermione hadn't wanted to mention it, but yes, she'd been worried. Just a lingering bit of anxiety that somehow, some way, something was going to go wrong.

"Hey,"

Hermione looked up, unaware at how solemn she had gotten or that Lydia had lifted Aiden off of her lap and placed him on her own.

"If there's one thing I've learned from my job it's that you don't go looking for trouble," Lydia told her. "Be glad that everything is okay. Besides, you don't need the stress."

Hermione chuckled. "Now you're starting to sound like Draco."

Lydia smiled. "Listen to us then."

* * *

Draco's mother had gone all out for the welcoming party for Aiden and her unborn grandson. Why wouldn't she? The woman loved to celebrate any and all achievements when it came to her family. This certainly was no different.

And so she rented a mansion for the event, inviting close friends and family to spend the night before and the night of the event once the festivities were over. Hermione had expected to stay there after the party, not the night before. That's why Draco was there now and not working a fictional case he was supposed to have been called away for.

It was his and Hermione's one year anniversary tomorrow. Christmas day. He had planned in his mind what he had wanted to do months ago, but that was before he knew his wife would be heavily pregnant by now. Draco wanted her to have as little strenuous activity as possible, and so he decided that this would be the perfect opportunity for a pampered day. He had told Uriel and Lydia what he wanted to do and roped them into it, leaving them to keep Hermione occupied. He had gone to the mansion last night to prepare, but with his mother having kidnapped every last house elf for her event, he was left doing it alone. That is until he swallowed his pride and asked for help.

Out of every friend and acquaintance Draco had, every single one of them was busy except for Blaise _and Ron._ His pride had been more than swallowed. It had been carved into his forehead and worn as an sign. Sometimes he forgot how much Hermione meant to him. A woman who, at the time Draco and Hermione had gotten together, he was very much still in love with. And yet here he was, helping the husband of his ex, yet still best friend, deck out a suite in elaborate Christmas decorations and romantic touches.

After nearly two hours of decorating, Draco sighed, glanced once at Blaise who was off setting candles in a far corner of the room, and then turned his gaze on Ron who was within hearing distance of him.

"Hermione told me that you made her go to St. Mungo's."

Ron looked away from the wreath he was hovering with his wand, and titled his head in confusion at the blond.

"August," Draco poorly elaborated, but Ron had managed to piece it together. He was talking about when he forced Hermione into finding out if she was pregnant or not. And so the redhead nodded and went back to hanging his wreath.

"I did."

"This is long overdue, Weasley," Draco said as he began fiddling with an already hung set of decorations. "Thank you...for being her friend."

Ron dropped the wreath. He nearly dropped his wand too, but instead he faced Draco with wide eyes and choked out, " _What?_ "

Draco glanced at him and huffed. "Sucks for you if you didn't hear me because I am _not_ repeating it."

Draco walked off then to attend to some other part of the room. Ron continued to stand where he was, dumbfounded, and completely at a loss of what to say or do. Blaise noticed, despite not being in earshot or having a proper view, that something was amiss. Ever curious and a utter gossip, he tucked his hands into his pockets and headed over to Ron while eyeing his friend intermittently.

Blaise reached him and leaned against the wall with a goofy grin. "What's the matter with you? You look like a hex was just placed on your house."

Ron blinked himself back to reality and stared at Blaise. "Malfoy just... _thanked me._ "

 _Well, I certainly wasn't expecting_ _ **that.**_

"What for?"

"For being Hermione's friend,"

It was a guarantee that Blaise was going to use this as ammunition one day. It must've killed Draco to say _anything_ remotely praising to the redhead, but Blaise understood why he did it. And at that, aside from the teasing, he gave his best friend kudos.

"Congrats, Weasley," Blaise said as he pushed himself off the wall. "Not that Draco would ever say this in public, or in private, or even in his head, but you've officially made it onto Draco's friend list. Don't screw it up."

* * *

"Aiden, you're due for a nap. Please, go to sleep?" Hermione pleaded.

She was laying in bed, pillows propped up behind her back because it ached, a sour expression on her face because of cramps, and praying _very hard_ that Aiden would go to bed. She'd been trying to get him to sleep the past half an hour, but clearly that wasn't the agenda for her son. He was happily sitting beside her, playing with the wings of his hippogriff toy, and looking up at her every now and again with a wide, toothless grin.

Merlin, bless him, he was adorable.

Hermione sighed, deciding to just give up. If he skipped his nap now, maybe she could keep him awake long enough so that when he _did_ sleep he'd sleep through the night. It was as good a gamble as any.

She adjusted herself to sit up in bed and winced. Her cramps weren't letting up. Although, if she was being honest, it less like manageable discomfort and more like uncomfortable pain.

Hermione frowned and reached for her wand.

"Let's put a barrier around you, shall we?" She said as she moved her wand around Aiden. She didn't want him falling off of the bed while she went to the bathroom.

Hermione didn't actually have to use it, but there was something telling her that she had to go there. That she _needed to._ And so, she went into the room and hiked up the house dress she was wearing. She slowly slipped down her underwear after that, swallowed, and hesitantly moved her hand to between her legs. When she pulled it back her heart stopped.

Blood.

 _A lot_ of blood.

The brunette was speechless for several seconds, and when she managed to catch her voice it cracked and stuttered.

"L-Lydia? Lydia!"

Hermione wasn't sure if her voice carried, but she soon heard her bedroom door open and the joyous voice of her friend

"Aiden, love, I thought your mummy put you to bed?" Lydia laughed.

"Lydia!"

Footsteps immediately came to the bathroom door, and Lydia's smiling face dropped when she spotted Hermione's face. Her eyes went wide when she saw her hand. And her jaw dropped when she let her eyes trail down Hermione's legs.

"Uriel!"

* * *

Draco was all smiles as he stared around the room. It was a mix of happy Christmas feels and romance and guaranteed to make him husband of the year. Wreaths on the walls, a Christmas at least three feet taller than himself in the corner of the room, beautifully decorated with ornaments, candy canes, lights, and, he was quite proud to admit, photographs of himself, Hermione, and Aiden. There were presents too. For added fun there were various sets of mistletoe hung on the ceiling, but charmed so that they didn't appear unless he and Hermione walked underneath them.

"Damn it," Blaise shook his head. "You're making me look bad here, mate."

Ron snorted. "Seconded,"

Draco grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. "It's not a contest despite the fact that I've just won it."

The other two men shared glances and rolled their eyes in annoyance. Before either one of them could come up with a reply, they were interrupted by the harsh opening of the suite door.

"Draco," Uriel breathed once he spotted him. He was out of breath as though he'd been running for hours. Mirth disappeared from Draco's face immediately as it paled. Worry and fear was all he could see in Uriel's expression and Draco gulped.

"Hermione?"

"Come on, mate," Uriel said with an urge of his hand. "We have to go to St. Mungo's right now."

Draco's heart plummeted, but he did move. He ran, more like it. He didn't know if the three men behind him we're keeping up, but he didn't care.

"Tell my mother where I'm going," he said to no one in particular once he got to the nearest room with a fireplace. He didn't wait for a reply or for anyone to join him in the fireplace. He just left.

Draco tumbled out of St. Mungo's and would've fallen had a stranger not caught him by the arm. He didn't thank him. He barely even registered that there were people around him. All he could think about was Hermione and that she was in a hospital. Hermione...hospital. The latter he had hoped never to associate with her again unless it was for a happy occasion. That happy occasion was the due date of March 5th. It was Christmas Eve. She was two months too early. This was bad. This was a nightmare. This was-

"Answer me, I said!" Lydia shouted at him.

Draco blinked. Only Merlin knew where this woman came from. Had she been there the whole time? She was standing directly in front of him with her hands on his face trying to get him to focus.

"Where is she?" Draco croaked out.

"You'll have to ask Hermione's parents," Lydia said. They're the only ones the hospital will talk to since they're her family. Come on."

Lydia held Draco by the arm and pulled him along. Whereas he'd been running before, now he was walking, knowing that with each step he took it would lead him to finding out news that could ultimately shatter him.

Yet again, Draco was unaware of his surroundings. When he and Lydia reached their destination there were more people here than Hermione's parents. Harry and Ginny were here, the latter holding Aiden to her chest. Lavender and Liliana were here too, and Draco could only assume that a Patronus had been sent. How else could they have all gotten here so quickly?

"Oh, Draco, you're here!" Mrs. Granger exclaimed as she took over from Lydia by pulling him on the arm. She looked terrified. Mr. Granger looked none-the-better and he gave Draco a curt nod without saying anything.

"Draco," Dr. Lonnegan greeted him.

"I need to see Hermione," Draco said, and his chest hurt when he watched Dr. Lonnegan shaking his head.

"You can't do that. Healer Hasbrook is getting Hermione ready for surgery."

Just when Draco thought that he couldn't feel worse, there it went.

"S-surgery?"

Dr. Lonnegan nodded and sighed. "As I was telling Hermione's parents, she was bleeding significantly when her friends brought her here. We did quick tests and… And it's the curse, Draco. It started attacking the baby."

Draco closed his eyes. _It started attacking the baby._ Those words rang loudly in his ears and made him feel sick. He was dizzy and he was numb. His in-laws were talking to him, but their voices were silent. The only thing he heard was the last sentence of Dr. Lonnegan's words repeating endlessly until he snapped his eyes open with utter rage.

"How could this have happened?" Draco demanded. " _You_ said she was fine! You've been seeing her for _months_ , and everything's been fine!"

"Everything _was_ fine," Dr. Lonnegan replied with a solemn face. "Her tests were perfect. The prognosis was excellent. However, you know just as I do that the curse has been there all this time, doing nothing. But today it just… It manifested as though it was cast anew. The curse is meant to prevent pregnancies, Draco, but your wife _is_. That's why she was bleeding. And that's why Healer Hasbrook and I are prepping Hermione for surgery to get your son out before…"

Dr. Lonnegan's words trailed. Draco knew what he was going to say before he stopped himself, but they needed to be said. Draco _had_ to hear it. And so he urged him.

"Before what, Dr. Lonnegan?"

The doctor took a deep breath, eyeing his favorite patient's parents before settling his gaze on the distraught husband and father before him.

"Before the curse kills your son and Hermione."

* * *

Blaise, Ron, and Narcissa came in together. The matriarch's usually prim and proper demeanor had been done away with and she looked as though she had just been given a death sentence. Ron was silent with an expressionless gaze. Blaise's own thoughts were blurred and he wasn't quite sure what to do. Hermione meant a lot to him. To have something happen to her or her son after _everything_ she and Draco had gone through already? It was cruel.

"Where's Draco?" Narcissa immediately asked the group. "How's Hermione? The baby?"

"We won't know how she or the baby are for a while," Ginny said. "She's in surgery."

Narcissa's eyes watered. "And Draco?"

Ginny gestured towards the hall behind her. Narcissa turned and saw her son. He was sitting on a chair along the hall away from everyone. Even from a distance he was a mess.

"My poor boy," she whimpered before beginning to walk towards him, but Blaise put a hand on her shoulder.

"Narcissa, if I may?" Blaise addressed her. "Draco doesn't need to see anyone cry."

Narcissa dabbed at her eyes, swallowed, and nodded. Blaise gave her a soft smile before taking off towards Draco in her stead. As he got to him Blaise realized that he was mumbling. He was sitting on a chair, his leg shaking up and down, his hands cupped tightly, white from a lack of blood flow. It wasn't until Blaise got closer that he could hear what his distraught friend was saying.

"Too good… It was too was good…"

Blaise took a deep breath and gently approached him. "What was too good?"

Draco didn't look at him. He just continued to stare blankly ahead. He did answer him though.

"Life. It was too good. Life is _never_ this good to me. Not for long. It just has to throw _some shit_ in there to remind me that I don't deserve to be happy. That I don't-"

"You deserve to be happy just like any of us," Blaise cut him off. "Don't ever doubt that for a second. Hermione and the baby will be fine."

"What if they're not?"

"They will be."

"How do you know?"

"They will-"

Draco abruptly stood, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and shaking him as he yelled, " _How do you know?!_ "

Blaise had seen Draco break down before, but this… This was new. This was pain and fear beyond anything a person should feel. Every word this man heard needed to be said carefully. He was on the verge of snapping, but even then, Blaise couldn't find anything more to say than just,

"They'll be fine."

* * *

It was late. After midnight. Hermione had been in surgery for hours, and in the meantime, everyone took turns sitting beside Draco who still sat more than a dozen feet away from everyone. He didn't talk to them either, nor did they try to initiate a conversation. They merely just wanted to make their presence known so that he knew he wasn't alone.

It was Harry's turn now, and he'd been sitting with him for the past half an hour before nearly jumping out of his skin when Draco spoke.

"Is Aiden asleep?"

Harry nodded. "Ginny took him to her parents' so that he could sleep properly. I hope that's okay."

"It's fine."

More silence ensued, but it was broken again by the same man who had broken it the first time.

"Potter, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"What are Hermione's parents doing?"

Harry looked over at Hermione's parents. They had their hands cupped, eyes closed, and they appeared to be mumbling. He looked back at Draco, now fully aware that this was probably the first time he had ever seen someone do that before.

"They're...uh…praying."

As expected, Draco was confused. "What is it?"

"Um… It's something some muggles do. You, uh… You basically talk to someone who's all powerful and He helps you when you're in trouble."

Intrigued, Draco returned his gaze to his in-laws. They'd been doing that praying thing nonstop for Merlin knew how long.

"Does it work?" He asked Harry. The latter rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

"Some people think it does."

"Do you?"

Harry didn't know. The Dursleys had never been the religious sort, and he himself had never really thought about it. But as he observed how intensely Draco was staring at him, and how terrified and tired he looked, Harry found himself nodding despite what he believed.

"Yeah," he told him. "I think it works."

"And you just...talk?"

Harry nodded. "You talk and He listens."

 _You talk and He listens…_

Draco wasted no time in following his in-laws' example by cupping his hands and closing his eyes.

" _I don't know if I'm doing this right,"_ Draco said quietly. " _I don't even know who you are. But please,_ _ **please**_ _, keep Hermione and our son safe. If anything happens to them… I'll die. I'll completely fall apart."_

"Draco,"

The blond stopped and opened his eyes. He found Harry on his feet and pointing down the hall where Healer Hasbrook was. Draco stumbled to his feet and hastily made his way to him, his fear and anxiety weighing him down and his thoughts running ragged.

"Well?" Draco asked. It was all he could say. He didn't dare ask detailed questions. He was already vulnerable, shaken beyond normal capacity and ready to crumble at the proper moment.

Healer Hasbrook took a moment to glance at all the expectant pairs of eyes on him: ten total. His gaze landed on Draco last and he gave him a triumphant smile.

"If you follow me, Draco, you can see your son."

The noise level in St. Mungo's hall jumped a thousand decibels while Draco remained speechless. He would've dropped to his knees had he not been paralyzed with joy and relief.

"And Hermione?" Narcissa questioned.

"Resting," Healer Hasbrook confirmed. "She should be up for visitors tomorrow. Shall we get going, Draco?"

Draco nodded and followed Healer Hasbrook through a set of double doors. It was the maternity wing, so he noticed, and his heart swelled knowing that Hermione was back here somewhere, fine and asleep.

They walked for a little less than ten minutes until they reached something called the Premature Unit.

"It's where we keep all of our early birds," Healer Hasbrook said without being prompted. "There aren't very many babies here, so I managed to wrangle a corner of the unit for privacy. I figured you'd need it."

Draco smiled briefly in thanks before he stopped walking at the sight of a small baby in what he would consider a plastic crib. He frowned, though, at the thin glowing strips of magic that equated to wiring in muggle terms. It didn't take much for him to figure out that they were meant to make sure he was breathing alright and to check his heartbeat.

"How long will he stay like that?"

"It's a case by case basis, honestly," Healer Hasbrook replied. "But considering his health wasn't as bad as we feared, could be the middle or end of January sometime."

Draco understood. He took a tentative step closer and grinned a little. The hair on his head was blond like his. He wondered if when his son opened his eyes they'd be grey like his too.

"What time was he born?"

"Eleven-fifty-four. Just six more minutes and he would've been born on Christmas Day," Healer Hasbrook chuckled. "But Christmas Eve is just fine. He'll still get double the presents, I'm sure.

'Hermione had told me you'd chosen a name, but she didn't tell me. Wanted to keep it a surprise. What is it?"

"Can't tell you," Draco shook his head before smirking. "Hermione will throw a fit."

Healer Hasbrook laughed. "Fair enough. I'll leave you both alone then."

Draco acknowledged him with a glance before pulling a chair up to his son's crib and sitting beside him.

"I'm sorry," Draco said immediately as he stared at his son. "Not more than an hour into this world and already life is giving you a hard time." He took a deep breath to keep himself together, but he could tell that he was failing miserably in that regard as he tasted salty tears at the corners of his lips. If Hermione was standing here with him she would say it was okay to cry. They'd all been through a lot, but then again…

"You're alive, aren't you?" Draco spoke, blinking away his blurry vision to see his son better. "A curse nearly… It nearly killed you and yet you're here." He smiled then and wiped at his eyes as he chuckled. "Gryffindor genes if I ever saw it. You're definitely your mother's son. A fighter. A fighter and a Malfoy. That's the best combination out there, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

* * *

Draco stayed by his son's side for hours. When the sun began to rise, he realized that he hadn't slept. He wasn't even tired. He checked how much time he had before he could go see Hermione and realized that he had up to another half an hour. He decided to use that half an hour to do one thing.

Perhaps it was because he was feeling sentimental. In truth, there could have been no other explanation. Draco went to and stayed in St. Mungo's Owlery for up to twenty straight minutes, a borrowed quill in his hand as he debated what he'd say.

 _Caelum Draco Malfoy._

 _Born December 24th, 11:54pm_

He didn't sign it. He just put it in an envelope with his father's name on it and sent it off. Once that was done he went in search of Hermione's room. It was still early. Just after eight in fact, but he hoped that she was up.

And she was.

Draco gave his biggest smile as he watched her for a few moments. She hadn't noticed him because she'd been looking through the window. She also may have cried at some point because he could see dry tear stains on her face.

"Hey,"

Hermione turned her gaze away from the window and looked over at him. "Hey,"

"How do you feel?"

"Hazy," she replied as she rubbed at her eyes. "The last thing I remember is being given a _really_ strong muggle anesthetic. And then I just woke up."

Draco grinned as he approached her bed. "Let's hope Caelum sleeps just as strongly as you do."

Hermione's face twisted in both alarm, fear, and happiness as she asked, "He's okay?"

"He's okay. Healer Hasbrook, Dr. Lonnegan, and the rest of the hospital staff have him isolated where they keep other premature babies. They'll monitor him and keep him here for a while."

Hermione released a deep breath and swallowed. "Of course. He was born ten weeks early. It's procedure. But, he's okay?" She asked again. Pleaded was more like it.

Draco was at her bedside now, and he cupped her worried face with his hands and kissed her on the forehead.

"Yes, he's okay."

Hermione closed her eyes, a few more of those tears streaming down her cheeks that Draco wiped away with us thumbs.

"Where's Aiden?"

"Mrs. Weasley's,"

"Ah, he's getting spoiled rotten then," Hermione laughed. She then stared at her husband. _Really_ stared before adding, "Have you slept?"

"Are you kidding?" Draco scoffed. Hermione laughed again and then patted the small space on the bed next to her. He took out his wand and enlarged it, eyeing the bed as something to be treasured now that he realized he hadn't lain in one in over twenty-four hours.

It was soothing now that he was on it. It was even better when Hermione began threading her fingers through his disheveled hair.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Draco?"

"Happy Anniversary,"

* * *

 **Author's note #2:** Well! I'll tell you something. This chapter was not easy to write, but it was done. And through it all Draco and Hermione still came out on top.

I can say now that after 56 chapters (whew!) we've pretty much hit the climax of DH's life. There's still more that I need to include, but from here on out there will be time jumps to get key moments in their journey. The end of this story is coming. Can't say for sure when, but it's out there.

Thanks for reading!

-WP


	57. Family

_October 2011, 8 years later_

Draco hated this process. It was why he only went through it once every three to four months. Well, _one_ of the reasons. If he was honest he'd rather not be doing this at all. However, he had unfortunately started a chain of events that had led to this some eight years ago and now he was stuck with it. Not to mention both his mother and wife would give him hell otherwise.

"Planning on staying in the boat?"

Draco blinked and realized that, yes, they had made it to the island and he was the only one still seated. He scowled at the man as he got out.

"Don't test me, Potter. I'm not in the mood."

Harry chuckled. "Obviously if I'm back to 'Potter' again."

Draco rolled his eyes. It was a running joke with everyone about his name choice. So it went, if he called a person by their first name he, a) liked him or her, b) he or she hadn't pissed him off that day. The last name, on the other hand, meant trouble.

Harry led the way from the boat and into the immaculate, yet terrifying building. Every time it came to this visit Draco felt a bit of his pride chip away because he could feel nothing but admiration towards the man who had once been his childhood rival. Harry was Head of the Auror Department now. Usually a senior level Auror would be escorting Draco here, but Harry did it personally. The action was deeply appreciated, although he'd yet to outright say thank you in the past two years they'd been doing this.

There were always barriers that visitors had to pass before getting directly inside. Harry, of course, didn't have to go through any of them. One would think that Draco wouldn't have to either seeing as he was _also_ a Department Head (sub-department, if he wanted to be technical). But, favoritism at its finest, he supposed. Or discrimination. Either or.

Barrier one included getting his wand taken. Barrier two was a set of spells to detect any unsavory magic or disguises. And barrier three was a ring they slipped onto your pinky finger that automatically adjusted to fit. It was a tracker so they knew where you were at all times.

Harry looked on with a frown. He had tried several times to get the guards to stop doing this to him, but it's been futile so far.

Once the gruesome screening was over, Draco and Harry finally made it to the visitation room. The door Draco went through would separate him and Harry for the next half an hour (or less).

With a deep breath, Draco opened the door and locked eyes with the man sitting on a chair, hands cupped on the table before him, with the same color hair and eyes as himself.

"Son," Lucius greeted.

Draco already wanted to leave.

* * *

Azkaban had a very strict visitation policy. Now while they allowed people to visit anytime they wanted, those dates had to be sent in advance so that the guards could prepare. Neither Hermione nor Draco knew that his visitation date with his father would coincide with her bimonthly check-in with Healer Hasbrook and Dr. Lonnegan. Draco had promptly wanted to cancel, but Hermione forbade it.

" _I'm perfectly fine to go on my own, you know."_

It was Draco's turn then to forbid something and he promised that he would keep his visitation date only if someone went with her. And that's where Blaise came in who sat in the corner of the room looking at everything but her and the Healer and doctor in case he saw something someone not her husband shouldn't see.

"Alright, Hermione, you can sit up now," Healer Hasbrook said. Easier said than done, of course, when you were seven months pregnant. She ended up needing help from both physicians.

"Everything's looking good on our end," Dr. Lonnegan told her. Hermione huffed. He smiled at her and gently patted her hand. "And _if_ something goes awry, we're well-prepared. You have your emergency bag packed at home?"

"Yes,"

"Ministry-issued portkey on you at all times?"

Hermione nodded.

"Good. And the fact that we're familiar with your situation makes it even better. You needn't worry."

Hermione sighed. "Okay. See you in two weeks then?"

"Two weeks," Dr. Lonnegan confirmed.

Blaise had been half-listening, not wanting to intrude, but knew when they were finished. He got up from his seat and helped Hermione down from table, bid her miracle workers farewell, and then escorted Hermione out of the room.

"I wish I could take a Calming Potion," Hermione grumbled. "I'm a total nervous wreck." She bit her lip before looking at Blaise and saying, "This is it, you know. How far along I was when Caelum was born. And we all know how much of a disaster that was."

"Oh, I don't remember a disaster," Blaise replied. Hermione's eyes widened, but he paid her no mind as he continued. "All I remember is a baby boy, the _splitting image_ of his father, being born. That and staying in St. Mungo's a little longer than the norm. Now he's two months shy of turning eight, and constantly asks me to sneak him candy when you aren't looking."

Hermione laughed. "Please tell me you haven't been encouraging him."

Blaise smirked. "Alright, I won't tell you."

"Typical," she tutted. "The next time Gianna and Raphael come to visit I should send them home to you loaded with sweets."

"Good. We'd all share. Liliana's a tough one with her 'no sweets after five' policy."

Hermione rolled her eyes as they finally neared the exit. Blaise had her cloak which he helped her into.

"Where to next? Home? My place? Harry's?"

"The orphanage, then home," Hermione replied. "I have one more class to teach before I take the rest of the year off."

* * *

"How are the investments?" Lucius asked.

This was a normal question whenever Draco visited and it annoyed him. He had never been reckless when it came to money, nor would he be now with a wife, two children, and a third on the way. But an even better reason to be fed up with this was for the simple fact that anything Malfoy-related was, truly, none of his father's concern. Everything had been legally turned over to Draco when he had turned twenty-five six years ago. Investments, properties, accounts… Everything.

"Better than usual considering that I tapped into the muggle market a few months ago."

The twitch in Lucius' face was interesting. A slight narrowing of the eyes. Tight lips. The gentle throbbing of the vein above his left temple. The man was an aneurysm waiting to happen.

"The _muggle_ market?"

Draco smiled. "That's right. Hermione and I had met a muggleborn who owns his own firm specializing in muggle stock with wizard clientele."

Lucius huffed. "You should never engage in something you know nothing about. Muggle stock…" he added with a sneer.

"That's what I have my wife for. She wasn't completely versed in it herself at the time, but overachiever and all that," Draco added fondly. "She knows far more than I do at this point. That's why I made her the primary stockholder for the investments there."

The outrage that Lucius was suddenly overcome with had been expected. Draco looked on, almost with a bored expression, as his father rose from his seat and leered over him.

" _You did what?!_ " He shouted. "A mud-"

"If you're going to call her what I think you are, I'm leaving," Draco said sternly. Lucius glared at his son, but he did sit down.

"Those investments have _never_ been outside of Malfoy hands. Nor in the hands of someone with a different… _social status._ "

Draco sucked his teeth at his father's craftiness in synonym choice and leaned back in his seat.

"We've never had muggle stock before, so your point is moot. Furthermore, Hermione _is_ a Malfoy, has been for almost a decade, and always will be. The sooner you come to terms with that the better. You have two grandchildren because of her and soon another one for Merlin's sake."

"One," Lucius said stubbornly. "As I recall, the first is adopted."

Draco's eyes flashed dangerously and he got up without warning. He had never wanted to cause his father so much harm before now, but everyone has their limits. However, instead of taking any action that would give him in a cell next to his father, Draco headed towards the door and walked out of it without saying goodbye.

Harry had been startled by the rough pull of the door and how hard it had been slammed. He stared at Draco as he halted his steps, closed his eyes, and talked to himself. Well, counted backwards from ten.

Harry waited until he was done to ask, "You alright?"

Draco opened his eyes and glanced at him. "Let's get the hell out of here."

* * *

Narcissa had never cared for parks. They were too public. Too unkempt. Too many families and children she didn't know or approve of. And no, she didn't mean "approve of" in the blood status sense. She hadn't thought that way in a very long time due to her daughter's character and strength. By "approve of" she simply meant that she didn't know these people or their young ones. How would she know if they were appropriate in speech, manners, and overall behavior to interact with her grandchildren? _That_ , regardless of blood, mattered greatly.

However, her grandchildren loved coming to the park. Their grandparents on their mother's side took them often, as well as their mother. How could she say no then when they asked? If not for their sweet faces and good behavior, at the very least to not be classified as the "mean" grandparent.

At least she had the decency to choose a wizard park. And so, Narcissa sat with poise and precision, a bit unblended from the other caregivers in the park, but she didn't care. She was there to tend to her grandchildren and to keep them well within her eyesight as they played.

"Cookies," Caelum said as he caught the ball his brother threw. Aiden frowned and held his hands out for him to throw it back.

"No, _fudge,_ " he replied. "Dad likes fudge."

"Mum likes cookies. They'll make her feel better."

"Dad has to feel better too. He's always grumpy after he comes back from seeing grandpa."

"Yeah, he is," Caelum agreed, throwing the ball at the same time. "I wonder why."

"I heard Uncle Harry say that he was a terrible person." Aiden let the ball fall into his hands, but it also hit him in the face at the same time. Caelum laughed, but promptly stopped after his brother's glare. Well, he still giggled.

"Can we ask grandma to buy both?" Caelum suggested. Aiden smiled broadly and nodded.

"Sure! We can mix them up and they can get both. Here, catch!"

The ball was thrown a little too wide and too hard and went over Caelum's shoulder.

"Sorry," Aiden said. "I'll go get it."

"No, it's okay. I'll get it."

Caelum walked over not more than three feet or so where the ball continued to roll until it hit the side of a sandbox. He smiled at it and bent over to pick it up when a pair of hands got to it first. He looked up and found a boy nearly twice his height standing in front of him.

Caelum gulped. "Can I have my ball back?"

The kid said nothing at first. He just stared at him, letting his gaze settle on Caelum's face and hair.

A sneer appeared on his face as he gave the ball a gentle throw into the air. "A Deatheater's kid doesn't deserve a nice ball like this."

 _A Deatheater's kid?_

Caelum had never heard of that before, but it didn't matter. He felt picked on just the same and it made him mad. He reached out his hands to try to snatch the ball away, but instead the boy fell onto his back as though he'd been pushed. The ball itself stayed hovered in the air before it gently floated into Caelum's still open hands. His jaw had dropped in shock.

"He's over here!" Aiden said. Apparently he had gone to get their grandmother and she was _not_ pleased. "Are you okay, Caelum?"

"I'd certainly say that he is," Narcissa said with a smile. "He did accidental magic just a moment ago. Well done, darling."

"Terry! Terry!" The mother of Caelum's bully came into view. Narcissa's smile turned into a vengeful grimace.

"You're the mother of this boy who sought to pick on my grandson, are you?"

"Pick on?" She sputtered as she helped her son up. "In case you failed to notice it's _my son_ who was on the ground."

"Purely out of self-defense," Narcissa waved her hand. "You should teach your boy some respect and manners."

"He has them," his mother scoffed. "But I think in the case of a Malfoy, he's right not to use them. Let's go, Terry."

Narcissa used great restraint in not hexing the woman as she and her son walked away. Despite having every right to do so, she didn't want to teach her grandchildren such compulsive behavior. Skill and tact. That was a _far_ better method for any situation.

Caelum frowned. "What's wrong with being a Malfoy?"

Narcissa looked down at him immediately, Aiden too, and replied, "Nothing. Absolutely nothing and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Come along now. Let's head home."

Both boys gave their hands to their grandmother who led them out of the park. Neither she nor the children were oblivious to the looks they were getting by others.

"Grandma," Aiden addressed. "Can we buy fudge and cookies for mum and dad?"

Narcissa beamed. This wasn't the first time they requested treats for their parents. The boys were very aware of when their mother and father were wallowing in their emotions.

"Yes," she answered. "You both can have something too. You deserve it."

* * *

"What did we do to deserve them?" Hermione genuinely asked regarding her two sons.

She was sitting on the bed and smiling at the mixed box of fudge and chocolate chip cookies that Aiden and Caelum had presented to her and Draco after dinner. It was to help them on their "bad day."

"I don't know," Draco replied as he climbed onto the bed next to her. "But I've learned not to question good things."

"Oh no you don't," Hermione laughed as she gently pushed him away. "You're still wet from Aiden's bath."

Draco grinned. "I didn't even hug you."

"Regardless. You're not getting us sick, thank you."

Draco looked down at who made Hermione an "us" instead of a "me." He used his wand to quickly dry himself before reaching out a hand to touch her stomach. His daughter was in there. So was that damn curse they were still unable to get rid of even after all this time.

"How'd it go today?"

"They're not worried," Hermione said. "My bag is packed and I always have my portkey on me. Add in the constant plea day and night to our daughter to _not_ be like her brother, then I think we're set. How did it go with your father?"

Draco snorted and leaned back on the bed. "Is it any different than usual? One of these days I'll lose my restraint and actually hurt him."

Hermione tutted. "No, you won't. You couldn't hurt your father even if you wanted to. Now, here," she plucked out a piece of fudge and held it over his mouth. "Eat,"

Draco sighed and leaned forward so that he could eat the fudge, not to mention envelope his wife's fingers with his mouth and tongue. Hermione laughed as he licked her fingers clean.

"That, Mr. Malfoy, is what led to me getting pregnant in the first place."

"I know," he answered smugly with a wide grin.

She rolled her eyes at him just as Frizzle popped into the room. The little house elf had officially appointed himself Aiden and Caelum's nanny after seeing how difficult it was for the parents to juggle two children only months apart in age. He didn't do _everything_ , but the extra hand was, much to Hermione's dismay to admit, nice to have.

"The boys are both in bed ready to be tucked in!" Frizzle said happily.

"Thank you, Frizzle," Hermione said warmly. "Have a good night, okay? And do tell me if it's too cold for you as you sleep."

Frizzle beamed. "It's never too cold. Good night!"

He disapparated and Draco stretched, popping one more piece of fudge into his mouth.

"Alright, let's get them to bed."

"Right. Because we both know they're jumping on their beds instead of laying in them."

Draco grunted in agreement, helped Hermione get off the bed, and then they headed to their sons' room. Despite having plenty of space in the house, Aiden and Caelum shared a bedroom. They'd be in separate years once Hogwarts started, and so it was decided that they spend as much time together now as possible.

Their nighttime routine was fairly simple. Hermione and Draco would either scold their sons for jumping on their beds, or feign ignorance as their boys stopped jumping and scrambled under the sheets. And then there'd be two stories, one read by each parent until they fell asleep. Aiden always fell asleep first, and tonight was no different.

Caelum was pretty much in dreamland by the time Draco finished the book and Hermione kissed him on the forehead as she was accustomed doing before leaving the room first. Draco was right on her heels when Caelum called out to him in a _very_ wide awake tone.

"Dad, did grandma tell you why I did accidental magic today?"

Narcissa did in fact tell him it was because some kid was picking on him in the park, but Draco wasn't going to bring that up over dinner. He was just happy that his son's magic was coming in. Hermione too.

"It was because some big kid in the park called me a 'Deatheater's kid' and I got mad. What's a Deatheater?"

Draco's heart plummeted. His son. His small, innocent son with his curious eyes and angelic face was asking about _Deatheaters_. Was this honestly his life? Were his children going to be subjected to his past sins now? And not even from adults. _From children._ He could see it unfolding: all of his former classmates telling their children stories about their childhood and the mean Slytherin who had made their lives hell. The Slytherin who had let in a horde of Deatheaters into their school which led to their Headmaster's demise. How _unfair_ the justice system was that he had gotten off with barely a reprimand and his mother got to live lavishly as her punishment. And, most importantly, to _never_ befriend a Malfoy. It didn't matter if said Malfoy child was also the offspring of the infamous Hermione Granger. A Malfoy is never good no matter what.

"Dad?"

Draco blinked. He didn't realize that he had been staring off while his son was awaiting his answer. The older blond sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "That's a complicated answer, Caelum. Much too much to take in before bed."

"Oh," the little boy said softly. "Tomorrow then?"

No, not tomorrow. Not even the next day or next week. Hell, not even next year. Draco would never be ready to tell him the significance of what being a Deatheater meant. So, what did every parent do in a situation like this? He stalled.

"Soon," Draco told him. "I'll explain it to you soon. It's time for bed now."

"Okay,"

Caelum yawned and rolled over in bed. Draco couldn't have left his son's bedroom quick enough after that. He headed down the hall with rapid strides until he made it to his own room, shut the door and pressed his back against it with his eyes closed.

"Draco, what's wrong?"

He opened his eyes and found Hermione walking up to him with a concerned expression. Draco frowned, took her hand, and led her towards the bed.

"Caelum asked me what a Deatheater was."

Hermione's eyes widened. Yes, she knew the implications of such a question and she sat down next to him. "We never talk about the war. Where did he even hear that word?"

"A child at the park said it," Draco answered. "He called him a 'Deatheater's kid.'"

Hermione gasped. "Narcissa didn't mention that _that_ happened today."

"Either she didn't want to stress us out or she was out of earshot to hear it."

Hermione sadly shook her head. "A Deatheater's kid… I can't believe he was called that."

"I don't know why you're surprised," Draco scoffed. "People may not be gawking at us down the street anymore, but that doesn't mean they've forgotten. The war is a part of history now. It'll be talked about, including the people who were the most influential in it."

"...You're right, it will be," Hermione said after a short pause. "And it should be. History will only repeat itself if we don't know about it, but that doesn't excuse what happened with Caelum. Badgering him just because of his political lineage… It's no different than what you did as a child."

"Oh, yes it is," Draco brooded as he fell back onto the bed. "Because this time what other people tell him would be right."

Hermione frowned. "Draco-"

"You can't convince me otherwise, Hermione." He looked over at her and egged her on. "Tell me, that when they tell our son that I was a Deatheater that it'd be a lie. That when I let Deatheaters wreak havoc on Hogwarts that it'd be a lie. That Voldemort _himself_ lived in the Manor and that it'd be a lie. It would all be the truth, and then Caelum will hate me. Aiden too."

"Don't say that," Hermione admonished as she moved to lay down beside him. "The boys could _never_ hate you. They love you, and nothing that you do now or did in the past will change that."

Draco closed his eyes. Hermione's head was on his chest and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her to pull her in closer. "How can you be so sure?"

"Easy," she grinned as she lifted her head up a bit. "Because I married you. I grew up with you as my personal bully and witnessed firsthand what these children will hear from their parents or read in a book. If I can marry you after all of that, there's no doubt in my mind that your sons will love you no matter what."

Draco opened his eyes and stared at his wife. Yes, she was living proof that his past didn't matter to those who cared about him. While that was comforting, at some point he still had to tell Caelum what a Deatheater was.

Damn.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Well, I mentioned time jumps, so here we are lol! I may go back with drabbles to highlight Draco and Hermione's life with the boys as babies, but I really need to jump ahead to get to dear ole Lucius and other obstacles.

Hope that you liked it!

-WP

Guest1: Yes! After everything they get their son. If they hadn't oh that would've been horrible. Draco and Hermione deserve so much more than that :)

Megafan1: Thank you! After all they went through, here goes happiness!

blondyspooks: Aw thank you! Honestly this story has been a joy. If I could write it forever I certainly would!

Guest 2: Yup, definitely emotional, but at least it was worth it in the end :)

dramdram613: Thank you! I'm so glad that you like it.

Guest3: Possibly the craziest Christmas one could have, but at least Caelum made it! That's the best present I think!


	58. The Talk

Auror Juno had stepped down from being Head of the Auror's Department's Dark Arts Division almost two years ago. She had personally told Draco that she was resigning some three months ahead of time. He had thought the gesture was because she liked him and that they had a good professional relationship. While that had been the case, it was also because she had wanted him to take her place.

"I know what backlash you may get," Auror Juno had told him. "Which is why I want to work on the process internally as early as possible and before I officially step down so that _no one_ can challenge it. Harry may have already approved the transition, but that doesn't mean he won't get others trying to oppose him. We'll both help you."

Draco had needed all the help he could get. There had been backlash, just as Auror Juno had said. Senior members of the Dark Arts Division, the Auror Department as a whole, _and_ various members of the Ministry in general, all had a negative opinion of the change. However, Minister Shacklebolt was able to calm the masses and to remind them all that not only had Draco been a model citizen since the war and had proven to be an incredible asset to the department, Harry, as Auror Head, had the last say no matter what protest abounded.

Thus, Draco got promoted. And when there came room in the budget for a Junior Head to help with the expansion of the Division, Draco promoted Travers. All animosity that had been between them had died over the years. While exposure to one another helped, the blond had a feeling it had something to do with a newly attained wife and a daughter. Women, Draco had to admit, made all the difference in the world in a man's life.

So what was being a Department Division Head like? Paperwork. _Lots_ of paperwork. His signature needed to be on just about everything which meant that he spent quite a bit of time running through the pros and cons of every activity in the Division. It also meant that all press talks related to newsworthy cases were handled by him. It was funny almost. The same news outlets who sought to write every trashy and negative thing about him now had to hang on every word he said as it was of "vital importance" and for the "safety of the community."

There was just one aspect of his job that he hadn't gotten used to yet, and she had just walked through his office door.

"Hello there, boss!"

Draco grinned before setting down his quill and looking up to find Lydia strutting into his office. He shook his head and leaned back in his chair.

"Will you ever _not_ call me that?"

Lydia laughed. "Not at all. The Great Draco Malfoy is actually bashful about being in charge, so I'll forever call you that and every variant just to see you flush. It's _hysterical_."

Draco rolled his eyes and tried desperately not to flush just as she had alluded to. Lydia had been a DA Division Auror for the past month since returning back to work from maternity leave. It was hers and Uriel's first child, a son named Lucas. Once she had found out she was pregnant Lydia had promptly decided that espionage was _not_ a wise career choice. Granted, neither was dark arts, but as she presented her transfer papers to him, she had said "If you can do it, so I can, mister." So he let her. That and the fact she'd break his arm otherwise.

"How's my godson?" Draco asked.

"Screaming like a banshee," Lydia replied with a contented expression. "And my boys?"

"Bigger banshees,"

Lydia laughed and went to sit down in front of his desk. "They're eight and seven. Of course they are. But you'll miss that shouting and roughhousing as soon as they're off to Hogwarts. It won't be much longer now."

"I know," Draco groaned as he slicked back his hair with his hands. "But baby number three will be three by the time Aiden goes, four for Caelum. That'll give Hermione and I another seven years before we're bored at home."

Lydia snorted. "Still using the identifier 'baby number 3,' are you? For Merlin's sake, you've known the gender since forever _and_ picked out a name yet you refuse to tell anyone. Give us a break already."

"Not a chance," he answered smugly as he leaned neatly back into his seat. "You'll find out two months from now."

"Mean man," Lydia tutted. "I hope your hair starts to grey early."

Draco frowned. "Who's the mean one now?"

"Still you," she answered cheekily before she began to stand. "Anyway I'm off. Time to handle dangerous materials. With any luck and a generous boss," she winked, "I'll get done early today. Lucas is too young to properly enjoy it, but Uriel and I are dying to take him to the park and do all that mushy bonding stuff like push him on a swing. Hey, do you, Hermione, and the boys want to come too?"

Draco huffed and shook and his head. "I think parks are off the table for the foreseeable future."

"What? Why?"

"Caelum got picked on while in the park with my mother yesterday."

"Oh, Draco," Lydia smiled. "That's normal. All kids get picked on at least once in their life. You can't shield him from that."

"Yeah, well, this type of bullying included him getting called a 'Deatheater's kid.'"

Lydia's mouth dropped. She had been standing up, getting ready to leave the office, but now she was sitting again.

"That's awful! And a _child_ said this to him?"

"Yes, a child," Draco broodingly replied. "Caelum just got a taste of what he'll experience when he gets to Hogwarts. Aiden's lucky," he scoffed. "The only thing he's got from me is grey eyes. He can easily drop his last name when school starts and claim no relation."

"But he won't," Lydia said sternly. "He's proud to be your son and thinks you're the greatest person ever. Caelum too."

"For now. Despite what Hermione says, there's a good chance that they won't once they find out what a Deatheater is. Caelum asked me last night. I have no idea how to answer that."

"You answer it with the truth."

Draco huffed. "The truth… You say that like it's easy."

"I didn't say that it would be. You can't sugarcoat the past, Draco, but you _can_ be the one to tell your children first. Other people, they only have the half-truth. Exaggerated versions of it even. But only _you_ know what really happened because you lived it. _You_ can color how your children view you, and it's far better than having a stranger do it."

Draco fidgeted in his seat. He would _definitely_ prefer it to come from him than some random person. With a deep sigh he nodded and Lydia have him a gentle pat on the hand.

"It'll work out," Lydia reassured him. "Don't you worry."

* * *

"Hell, that's terrible," Harry frowned bitterly. Hermione nodded in agreement and sighed as she stirred her tea for the twentieth time.

"It's more than that really," Hermione brooded. "It's more than that because Draco was right. As optimistic as I want to be, you and I both know that people are _not_ forgiving when they've been wronged. History doesn't paint Draco well, or his mother, or Lucius-"

"History's right on that last one."

"Great, one out of three,"

"Hermione,-"

"I'm afraid of what of what Caelum's going to have to deal with," Hermione admitted, "looking exactly like Draco and all. The baby too if she -or he!" She said quickly before Harry could jump on the slip, "looks like him. And Aiden, well, he'll have his own issues to deal with, won't he?"

"I think he'll be alright. He's a strong kid," Harry smiled. "He took the news of being adopted pretty well."

Yes, he did, and Hermione had been over the moon about that. Despite not being biologically theirs, Aiden still had her hair and Draco's eyes. However, his light brown skin was a dead give away, and sometime last year he had asked his parents why his skin was different than everyone else's. The adoption bomb was going to be dropped eventually and that had been it. Hermione and Draco had sat him down and told him how they had met him when he was a baby, loved him on sight, and decided to bring him home. They had emphasized that he was very much a Malfoy just like Caelum and that they loved him the same. After a small pause he only had one thing to ask, and that was if he could tell strangers that the reason he looked different was because he got too much sun. That had been the best laugh she and Draco had ever had in their lives.

Hermione smiled at the memory and then took a deep breath when she felt a sharp kidney shot.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked quickly. Hermione nodded and smiled to ease his worry.

"I'm fine. The baby's just moving."

"You mean _she's_ just moving?" He beamed proudly. Hermione laughed.

"You did _not_ hear me say that, Mr. Potter."

"Oh, no, no, of course not. Didn't hear a thing."

Hermione rolled her eyes, clearly having been outed, and soon turned in the direction of sibling rivalry as one brother ran inside through the backdoor with the other running after him.

"Dad!" Albus yelled. "Make James play fair!"

"It's not my fault!" James yelled after him. "Those were the rules of the game!"

"No they weren't! _Dad!_ "

Harry discreetly gestured to his kids with his head and Hermione held in her laughter poorly. James, seven, and Albus, five, reminded her of her boys. When she found out that Harry and Ginny's second child was going to be a boy, she had playfully scolded him, telling him to stop copying. Now that Hermione was on her way to having a third child and this time a girl, it appeared now that it was _she_ that needed not to copy. Harry was a father of three, and Ginny was currently out with Lily (who was three) for her yearly Healer check-up.

When Harry finished attending to his children (ending with James sulking and Albus happily gloating), Hermione sighed contentedly.

"Harry, do you ever just sometimes...sit back and take a look at your life?" Hermione asked him. "A true, solid look and just ask yourself, 'How did I get here?'"

"Every day," Harry nodded. "And I'm thankful for every step that brought me here. The good _and_ the bad."

"Bad" certainly couldn't have gotten worse than being hunted by the darkest wizard of all time. And he got through it because he was strong, and because he had the support of all of his friends. Hermione felt lucky to be one of them. And she felt lucky to have him be on the support end for her. No, things hadn't been all peaches and roses, but these days were sure smelling better lately.

* * *

Draco sat slumped in his mother's armchair and massaging his temples deeply. He'd been developing a headache since Lydia's visit to his office and now it was a full-blown migraine. It didn't help that his mother had dipped into her bag of cunning recently. He honestly didn't know whether to be annoyed at her or to praise her.

"She should have taught her son better," Narcissa mused happily as she raised a scone to her lips. "Besides, you should have seen the boy, Draco. There wasn't a single chance the school was going to accept his transfer. That boy..." she tutted and shook her head. "I can't even imagine him being in the same school as my grandchildren. Utter travesty."

That school was Dingersen's Academy. It was a fancy title for a magical school for kids. The school was divided up into two sections: one for everyday learning (maths, history, etc.), and the other for preliminary magical learning combined with regular studies. Aiden had begun going when he was five and Caelum at six due to his birthday being in December. However, the boys would be split up as of next week now that Caelum had begun showing his magic. Neither child had particularly liked that part.

The school had been helped financially over the years by Narcissa after Hermione had found it when looking for a place for Aiden and Caelum to go when they were the appropriate school age. They owed a great many thanks to his mother after that, and so _of course_ any suggestion offered by Narcissa would be held in high regard. And so, after finding out about the unfortunate child's pending transfer through "discrete" means, all it took to end it was a tiny, intentional slip that having a boy such as Terry McClaggen among their pupils might not be such a good idea.

"Mother," Draco sighed as he let his hands fall from his head. "I understand your need to protect the family, but you shouldn't let a boy suffer just because he was raised by a crappy parent."

Narcissa's brow shot up neatly at that, and even Draco comprehended why as soon as the words had left his mouth. However, he didn't address it. He simply cleared his throat and adjusted his collar.

"What time is it?"

"Near eight," Narcissa replied despite still eyeing her son carefully.

"Hermione and Frizzle should be almost done getting the boys ready for bed by now."

"Are you still planning on having that talk with them tonight?"

"Yes," Draco frowned. "If I put it off I'll never do it."

"I understand," Narcissa replied, frowning just as much as her son. "Would you like me to be there also?"

Draco smiled fondly at his mother and then shook his head. "It's fine. I think it should be a father to sons conversation. But...if they have questions and they come to you…?"

"I will do my utmost to answer them appropriately," Narcissa nodded dutifully.

Draco thanked her and bid her farewell before taking the walk between her house and his. Hermione was down in the kitchen when he entered and finishing off what appeared to be her third chocolate frog. Her gaze when she saw him screamed loud and clear, " _Not_ _ **one**_ _word."_ However, he needn't be told. He knew better than to comment on a pregnant woman's eating habits.

"Are they in bed?"

"Jumping on them count?" Hermione grinned. Of course not, but both she and Draco liked to see their children enjoying life. Draco took a moment and looked up to the ceiling. He didn't hear Hermione move, but her stomach had reached him before her arms did and he closed his eyes to enjoy the comfort of her. "It'll be fine."

Hermione kissed him on the lips before pulling away and Draco took a deep breath before heading upstairs. He could hear his kids' raucous laughter as well as the bedsprings. He suddenly began to wonder if he ever had as much fun jumping on his bed as they did. Probably not. His childhood had been much more...rigid, for lack of a better term.

Draco turned the doorknob to Aiden and Caelum's room without knocking and he found them having the time of their life going up and down on Aiden's bed. When they spotted their father their jumping quickly ceased.

"We were _just_ going to bed," Aiden lied with a wide smile. A cute one at that.

 _Slytherin,_ Draco thought immediately as he closed the door after him.

"Your bedtime got extended just for tonight," Draco told them. "We need to have a little chat."

"Are we in trouble?" Caelum asked, but his father shook his head.

"No, you're not in trouble. I… I wanted to answer your question from last night."

Draco sat down at the edge of the bed and encouraged both boys to sit near him. As he did so, he also rolled up his left sleeve. Although there had been a steady progression of fading in his youth where his Dark Mark was concerned, it stopped after a while. What was left now was a raw, red outline of the original Mark, and it took Draco a long time to come to terms with the fact that he would have this subtle reminder for the rest of his life.

Draco raised his bare arm a little. "Aiden, after what happened in the park yesterday, your brother asked what a Deatheater was. Do you remember a long time ago when you asked me about this?" He gestured to his arm. "About why it was so red? And you thought I had drawn on myself with red ink?"

Aiden nodded.

"Well, it used to be a mark. A tattoo, really."

"Mum doesn't like tattoos," Aiden said quickly. Draco smiled.

"No, she doesn't. She especially didn't like the one I had. It… It meant that I was a Deatheater. And Deatheaters… They weren't very good people."

The boys frowned and Draco could just imagine the questions swirling around in their heads at that. Regardless, Draco breathed deeply and plowed on.

"Deatheaters were...a group of people that followed a really bad man. He and everyone with him believed, _wrongfully_ , that purebloods were the only ones who deserved to practice magic. And that meant Deatheaters did very bad things to people who were not, like muggleborns. Do you know what they are? Purebloods and muggleborns?"

Aiden and Caelum shook their heads and Draco knew that they would. He, Hermione, and his mother were _very_ cautious not to bring up anything about blood status around them (except what muggles were to explain Hermione's magic-less parents). For one thing, blood status didn't matter. And secondly, it would only lead to questions and to conversations like this.

"Purebloods are people who have no muggles in their families, like me and your grandmother and all of my side of the family. Muggleborns are people like your mother who have no wizards in their families."

Caelum suddenly gasped and his face was so distressed that it made Draco sick. "That means you hurt mum?"

Aiden's expression soon matched his brother's, but Draco quickly began to shake his head with the hopes to get rid of those _horrible_ reactions.

"No, never, I _never_ hurt your mother."

"But what about that story mum told when you made her teeth get really, really big!" Aiden rebutted, moving his arms out to emphasize the growth.

"That was me being a stupid kid," Draco smiled gently. "But as Deatheater I _promise_ _you_ that I never hurt mum. Okay?"

Draco's "okay" was more of a plea rather than asking for confirmation. Aiden and Caelum were quiet for a while before the latter asked in a soft voice,

"Why were you a Deatheater?"

"...Because my father was one. And because I believed everything that a Deatheater did, but I changed my mind."

"Was grandma one too?" Aiden piled on. Draco shook his head.

"Not officially. She never had the Mark on her arm like I did or your grandfather. She changed her mind too."

"But not grandpa?" Caelum questioned with a tilted head. Draco felt a scowl coming at the mention of his father, particularly with that Azkaban visit still fresh in his mind.

"No," he said with a calm face and voice. "Not grandpa. That's why he's in Azkaban."

"And you and grandma are here because you're good people, right?"

"Yes," Draco said with a strong nod. "We're good people, and we love you and your mother, and we wouldn't hurt anyone. Unfortunately, though, there are people who don't believe that. People who don't like me or your grandmother and people who won't like _you_ because your last name is 'Malfoy.'"

"Like that boy in the park," Caelum huffed and angirly crossed his arms. Draco gently undid them so his hands could settle on his lap instead.

"Yes, like him. And for that I'm sorry. People will dislike you because of things that my side of the family did. Things that _I_ did. But that was a _long time ago._ I'm not a Deatheater anymore."

"You're a good person!" Aiden said proudly. Draco kept his pride on the inside and merely nodded.

"Exactly. And so are you, Aiden. You, too, Caelum. Don't let anyone tell you different. People can judge us all they want, but we know better. Right?"

"Right!" Aiden and Caelum shouted.

Draco felt the biggest relief at hearing their little shouts. They didn't hate him. They didn't think he was a monster. Granted, a deep pull of his gut kept telling him that once they read what had happened in history their minds would shift, but this… This right now Draco would take and pray with everything he had that they continued to love him despite his past mistakes.

* * *

 **Author's note:** IT'S BEEN SO LONG! I did mention elsewhere that I'm a student, right lol? However, I haven't forgotten you/this story :). Draco finally got his talk out and he can breathe a little. As I told a couple reviewers, the rest of this story as it winds down is going to be dealing with some unresolved emotional/anger issues. Particularly on Draco's part. If I had to estimate an end chapter... Maybe 65 to 70.

-WP

Replies to Guests

Guests 1&2: Glad that you loved it! Hope that you like this one too especially after the long wait!

Guest 3: LOL. Lucius is terrible! I agree. We'll read more about him later actually. And yes, that mother is just as awful for instilling terrible values in her kid. Shameful. As for the reason why there's an 8-year gap between kids, that'll be explained soon :)

Guest who reviewed ALL OF MY CHAPTERS: First, thank you! And to answer a few of your questions: Chap 44: Yes, Hermione did leave her job. Not necessarily quit, but an agreement to give it up as her main focus has now become her orphanage. And the dinner was for pretense sake. While revenge is fun and Merlin knows Tiberius deserves it, the last thing they wanted was to have any leads that point to them purposefully luring him to the house just for torture. As for why Narcissa was the only one who got to "play," it can be summed up simply from what she said, "I won't have her (Hermione) looking down on you for Tiberius' treatment nor will I have your conscience burdened by it." It's kind of hard to shed your past if you keep living in it. Granted Draco will still fight for his family, but the way in which he fights is different now than before (most times lol).

jktlbfhi: :(. I hope you get everything that you deserve *hugs*


	59. Full Circle

" _But he's going to break it!"_

" _He's not going to break it, Rose. Just give it to him!"_

" _But mum!"_

" _Rose, I mean it!"_

Even from outside Hermione and Ron could hear Rose's disgruntled response and Lavender giving her the ultimatum of handing over the toy or no desert after dinner. The little girl had never been the stingy type, but when your three-year-old brother breaks your favorite toy _just once_ it's a complete game changer.

Hermione was highly amused as she watched Ron stand by the back door with his ear pressed against it and sighing once he had heard a happy outcome.

"Do you always hide away when your kids are arguing?" Hermione laughed.

"Hugo's too young to argue properly. He just screams," Ron shivered.

"You'll miss the fighting when Rose goes to Hogwarts."

"Mum didn't when it was just Ginny in the house," Ron grinned. "Why would I?"

"You know good and well your mother loved it when all of you were home," Hermione countered. "Add Harry and I to the mix and it was a never ending festive occasion."

Ron smiled at the memory as he moved to sit down next to her. They were out on the porch and enjoying the unusually warm weather for early November.

"Lavender wants another one."

"Do you?"

"I don't know yet," Ron answered honestly. "You grow up in a family as big as mine and you kind of want to test out what it's like to have a small one."

Hermione nodded in understanding and rubbed a hand over her stomach. Her little one was busy today and giving her legs quite the workout. "Small, big, it doesn't matter. A family is what you make it. Although, you and Lavender should probably talk before you both get an accidental third kid."

Ron chuckled. "Like both my best friends you mean?"

"Precisely," Hermione beamed. "Although, this was more luck than accidental."

Ron frowned slightly. He knew just how much luck was involved in Hermione's third baby. Luck, tears, _heavy_ depression… It hadn't been an easy road for the Malfoys where children were involved. That curse, despite that Harlow fellow's help, was still a nuisance to Hermione. She and Draco hadn't been actively trying to have another child what with two rambunctious boys the same age running about. But Hermione did, indeed, get pregnant again, and the curse had rattled her cage quite early in her pregnancy that time and, unfortunately a miscarriage ensued. That had been about four years ago, and the thought of it haunted the couple.

Ron anxiously played with his sleeves. "Are you still going to go through with the tube thing?"

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. "Draco and I love children. You know we do. But we've have had enough trauma in our lives to last a dozen lifetimes. Some peace of mind would be nice. If we decide we want another child in the future, we can adopt."

"That's fair," Ron smiled gently. "If my kids start giving me and Lav migraines you can adopt one of them."

Hermione laughed. It was loud and strong, but it stopped suddenly when she felt pain stronger than a kidney shot. Ron noticed her facial reaction and put a hand on her shoulder.

"What's wrong?"

"...Pain, just… _Ugh!_ "

Hermione couldn't help it that time around and she grabbed Ron's hand immediately as what felt like intense menstrual cramps wracked her lower abdomen.

She closed her eyes and felt tears spring. "Not again," she whispered to herself. "Please, _please,_ not again."

"Lavender!" Ron shouted. "Lavender!"

Lavender came to the backdoor, her hands messy from making dinner, and paused once she saw the panic written on both Ron's and Hermione's faces.

"Take her to St. Mungo's. I'll reach out to Draco," Lavender said as she pulled out her wand. Ron wasted no time in fishing out Hermione's portkey that she kept on her and whisking them away to St. Mungo's while Lavender's Patronus soared through the air.

* * *

Draco was bored out of his mind. Normally he would feign interest, but seeing as his boss and the conductor of this meeting was Harry, he didn't bother. After all these years in his company, the spectacled man knew when Draco was genuinely intrigued by something. Putting in an effort for otherwise would be a waste of energy.

All the division Heads were here. It was a meeting (after normal work hours of all things) to discuss currently implemented procedures when on site in an active danger zone, what worked, what didn't, and what could possibly be changed. Granted this was important, but Draco was moments away from snoring.

However, he was bolted right awake when a Patronus in the shape of a cat came through the wall and landed neatly on the table in front of Draco.

"Draco," Lavender's voice echoed. "Ron took Hermione to St. Mungo's. She's in labor."

Draco's heart fell and he locked eyes with Harry once before getting up and fleeing the conference room.

"The meeting is rescheduled," Harry announced before following Draco out. He found the closest room with a fireplace and saw the remnants of green flames. Moments later Harry was Flooing into St. Mungo's and he saw Draco being led down the hall by a Healer. Even as a retreating form the man looked a mess. Harry sighed and sent his own set of Patronuses before sitting down and waiting for the influx of concerned family and friends.

As for one of those friends, Ron met Draco at the end of the hall where the Healer took him.

"I'll tell Healer Hasbrook and Dr. Lonnegan that you're here," the Healer said as she headed inside the room both men were outside of.

Draco took a deep breath and ran his hands over his face before addressing Ron.

"Did she…? Was there…?"

"There was no blood, no," Ron told him. "Just pain."

"That's good, right? It has to be, right?" Draco asked. No, pleaded was more like it. What was terrible was that Ron didn't know the right answer to tell him. This man had more than his fair share of bad luck and unfortunate circumstances than one person should endure.

"Draco," a new, yet familiar voice joined them.

"Dr. Lonnegan," Draco grimly greeted. "How is she? The baby? Are they both going to be okay? Is there-?"

"Breathe," Dr. Lonnegan instructed. "You're going to pass out if you don't. The good news is that things aren't nearly as dire as before. Hermione's water hasn't broken yet, but she _is_ dilating. There's a possibility that we can do this the natural way time. Regardless, we'll keep a close watch on her and the moment we see any distress on the baby's part we'll go straight for the c-section. Alright?"

Draco swallowed, still completely terrified, but nodded anyway. "Can I see Hermione?"

"Of course you can," Dr. Lonnegan said and opened the door for him. Draco went inside to see Healer Hasbrook speaking gently to the anxiety-stricken brunette. When they both realized that Draco was there, Healer Hasbrook graciously relinquished his time and patted the blond on the shoulder before leaving.

Hermione looked ready to shed a million tears.

"At least you're further along than with Caelum?" Draco offered as a weak attempt at making her smile. She did do it, although briefly, and let some of those tears flow.

"What if she doesn't…?"

"We're not going to think like that."

"But-?"

"You heard me," Draco playfully admonished. He wiped her tears away with his fingers and brushed her hair behind her ears. "You might not even have to do surgery this time. Did Healer Hasbrook tell you that?"

"He did," Hermione nodded. "I don't know what I'm more afraid of. Surgery or having to push our daughter out of a small exit."

Draco laughed. "They can put a Numbing Charm on you, you know."

"A Numbing Charm will _not_ cut it," Hermione scoffed. She closed her eyes as contractions came again and grit her teeth.

Draco's hand was in hers and she squeezed it until it had no life left. He wouldn't dare complain that he couldn't feel his fingers or make a wisecrack that she'd break a bone if she kept this up. He was hers to abuse at this point and he let her _for hours._

Within those hours it had grown completely dark outside. Healer Hasbrook and Dr. Lonnegan broke Hermione's water for her. She dilated more. The baby was becoming increasingly distressed and talks of a c-section was swimming in the air. Hermione was beside herself with crying, stress, fear, not to mention exhaustion. By the time it hit midnight all hell was set loose.

The baby's heart rate dropped. Hermione complained that she couldn't breathe. Draco was rushed out of the room. Actually, _forced_ was more like it because he didn't want to leave. Healer Hasbrook had to draw his wand on him for that to happen, and now Draco stood outside of his wife's room, filled with anger and desperation.

Draco could feel his body breaking down. With every second of the unknown his brain was spinning its own scenarios built to torment him. It didn't matter what his friends were saying, if they were really by his side at all or if it was just his imagination. He felt someone at his back. Was a hand there? Was someone trying to pull him away from the spell-locked door? Maybe.

But Draco didn't budge. He stayed right where he was, clawing at the door as though that would make a difference.

"Don't let them die. Don't let them die," Draco repeated without fail. He didn't know if it counted as a prayer or not, but he needed someone, _anyone_ to hear and help him.

* * *

"Did I ever tell you that Hermione was an early baby too?"

Draco looked over to his right. His father-in-law was sitting on the floor next to him outside of Hermione's room. It had been close to two hours now since Draco had been barred from the room if he had to venture a guess. He refused to actually look at the time unless he wanted to cause greater anxiety to himself.

"No, you didn't."

"Right well, it had been utter pandemonium," Mr. Granger recalled with an awkward grin on his face. "The Mrs. and I had been travelling, you see. She'd been five months along, just about six, and we wanted to get in one last bit of travel before she hit the third trimester. _Big_ mistake. We had just boarded a plane to head to the States for a two week trip. She had some stomach upset, but we weren't thinking anything of it. She was only five months for goodness sake. Lo and behold her water breaks _right_ after takeoff. You should've seen my face when she told me. I swear my soul left my body in that instant."

"Holy hell," Draco breathed. "You don't mean to tell me that you had Hermione on a _plane_ , do you?"

"No, thank God. But can you just imagine the panic and chaos? Alerting the crew, waiting for the pilot to swing back around and land, getting my wife off the plane and into an ambulance on the tarmac, all the while trying to keep her calm while I'm damn near losing my mind."

Draco frowned and let his eyes look up at the door he'd been sitting by. "Yeah, I can imagine. But it turned out okay though."

"Yes, it did," Mr. Granger smiled. "To quote my wife's doctor, Hermione was a fighter. And you know what? She still is. She's been through...so much in her life. She'll get through this too."

Draco found himself mimicking his father-in-law's smile. Yes, Hermione was a fighter. She never gave up anything and gave her one hundred percent towards every goal she had in mind. It was that thought that the blond clung to as he continued to sit and to wait for any news. In the meanwhile Blaise fed him with random pastries that could have only come from his own house. Hospital food wasn't _that_ great. He also got a Patronus from Andromeda who was keeping Narcissa company as she watched the boys. Apparently they had woken from sleep, wondering if "mum was okay." Draco did his best not to sound worried or choked up as he gave a reply directly to Aiden and Caelum, saying that everything was fine, that it was okay to go back to sleep, and that they'd be home soon.

Eventually the exhaustion of the past innumerable couple of hours began to weigh on him. Draco found himself nodding off. He wasn't sure how long he was asleep for, but he became aware of someone shaking him awake, and all sleepiness was wiped from him when he realized that it was Dr. Lonnegan.

"I think your daughter would like to say hello."

Lydia, who had been among many to take Mr. Granger's spot next to Draco, squealed in delight as she hugged her friend.

"A girl! The baby is a girl!" Lydia gleefully exclaimed, squeezing the life out of him in the process. She then pulled back and said, "What are you still doing on the floor? Go! Go!"

Draco laughed as he finally got up. "Tell the others, will you?"

Dr. Lonnegan held the door open for Draco and he walked in, spotting Hermione first, obviously physically drained, but all smiles and happy tears. Next to her, in her own little crib, was his daughter, swaddled in blankets, wide-eyed, and energetic despite the time. Nearly five in the morning, to be precise.

"There's no wiring this time," Draco noted as he stood next to her. Healer Hasbrook, standing next to Hermione on the other side of the bed, shook his head.

"Your daughter is a strong one, she is," Healer Hasbrook replied happily. "We spent a good amount of time checking her health. Despite being born early and that curse, she's fine."

 _She's fine._

Those words were music to Draco's ears and he could feel tears coming. Both Healer and Doctor discretely left the room and let the parents be. When they were gone those tears were finally let free.

"Those Malfoy genes are inescapable, aren't they?" Hermione joked.

"I don't know," Draco grinned. "Her hair is curly at the very least. That's got to count for something, right?"

Hermione yawned and chuckled. "If you say so. But if we opt for a fourth kid I vote no blonds."

Draco shook his head. "Don't listen to your mum, Nysa. There's nothing wrong with blonds."

"Nysa," Hermione repeated. "Nysa Cassiopea Malfoy. It feels good to say that name out loud."

Draco nodded, fully understanding it for the dual reasoning that it was. The first for the very fact that after a near nine months their daughter was finally here. The second was for her middle name, an homage to the daughter that they had lost four years prior.

"Two boys and a girl," Draco mused as he set up a chair in between Hermione's bed and Nysa's crib. He pulled the crib closer to them, having no desire to have their newborn too far, even if it was just one or two feet. He looked over at Hermione and took her hand. "I think our shot at having a quiet house is gone."

"Are you kidding?" Hermione snorted. "We never had a shot. Besides, I like the noise."

The noise. Boys running up and down the halls playing with their toys, asking a million questions a day. Add now an infant daughter to the mix who was bound to cry at all hours of the day and night when she was hungry, fussy, needed a diaper change, or just attention. Draco could imagine now Nysa at two, the boys ten, and her awkwardly running after them because she wants to play. Yes, the noise. He quite liked it too.

* * *

 _February 18th, 2012_

"You would think by now these guards would know that I have no intentions of breaking my husband out," Narcissa angrily mused aloud as she handed her wand over. The guard taking it shot one look at Harry, but he shook his head to keep him from doing anything rash.

The elder Mrs. Malfoy hated going through these security measures to see her husband as much as her son did, but she was _much_ more vocal about it. Eventually they made it through each one, and Harry stood outside of the room Narcissa walked into so that she could spend her regularly allotted time with the man she, somehow, still loved.

"Cissa," Lucius greeted with a wide smile.

Narcissa stood near the door as usual to await her husband's rise from his seat. She didn't know how he did it, but somehow he always looked well-kept despite being imprisoned. Combed hair as best as he could manage. A turned down collar. An odd, yet still attractive musk most likely mixed from naturally growing fauna. She chuckled inwardly. There were many tricks of the trade to survive in Azkaban.

"Lucius," Narcissa replied as he reached her. A swift, yet meaningful kiss was had before he took her hand, making it feel warm in this dismal place. It was moments like this, no matter how small, that she realized how much she missed her husband.

"You grow younger every month I see you," Lucius complimented as he guided her to her chair.

"Now, now, there's no need to flatter me. Besides, I've unfortunately sprouted a few new greys that are the bane of my existence."

"Ah, ah, ah, there's a difference between grey and the Malfoy blond."

Narcissa smiled. "Of course. Now, I've brought a fresh journal at your request," she added as she placed the leather-bound book on the table. "Honestly, love, I have no idea how you run through them so quickly."

"The grey walls are less entertaining these days," Lucius replied with a cheeky smile. Narcissa tutted at him, but her cheeks also flushed. A deep throaty laugh erupted from him at that, but she cleared her throat to ignore it as she fished out one last thing from her purse.

"I've also brought this." She pushed a moving photograph towards him and Lucius picked it up. It was of a baby, not a newborn precisely, but obviously not long into this world. Three months at best. "Isn't she lovely?" Narcissa added, hope lacing her voice much more than she wished. "Her name is Nysa."

Lucius continued to stare at the infant smiling toothlessly with her light, curly blond hair and grey eyes. "She looks like you."

"You think so? She's more of a cross between Draco and Hermione to me."

Lucius scoffed and let the photograph fall to the table. Narcissa sighed and retrieved it.

"Really, Lucius, you're going to have to get over the fact that Draco married her."

"It will take another twenty years in here for that to happen," Lucius huffed. "And even then I sincerely doubt it."

"Don't say such things," Narcissa scolded. "Your parole hearing is closer than it used to be and we don't need such negative energy in the air."

Lucius frowned. Seven years… In seven years he was eligible for parole. Even though that was still a long time, it was easier to think about than when he was first sentenced some twelve years ago. He took a deep breath and let his shoulders slump.

"Do you really think that I will be released?"

"I hope so. And if you are," Narcissa began sternly, "you _must_ put forth an effort to be civil with Hermione and love your grandchildren. I won't accept anything less and neither will Draco."

Lucius grumbled to himself and crossed his arms over his chest. He felt like he was being talked down to like a child. His wife's cold stare wasn't helping.

"Why doesn't it bother you?" Lucius asked weakly. Narcissa sighed and leaned back in her seat.

"We've discussed this. Hermione makes Draco happy. Nothing else matters."

"That's not what I meant." Lucius uncharacteristically ran a hand through his hair, although it very much reminded Narcissa of her son when he was upset or defeated. And her son's father did, indeed, seem as such as he leaned forward and continued, "Why doesn't it bother you that _everything_ we worked for has been taken away?"

Narcissa's face softened. She reached for her husband's hands which he graciously gave and squeezed them.

"The future is never promised, Lucius. And when you don't get what you want, you learn and adapt. The life that's waiting for you outside of these walls isn't bad."

"The life waiting outside of these walls is one that I didn't ask for."

Narcissa couldn't help it. She laughed. A soft one. A grim one. But a laugh nonetheless.

"Like father, like son," she concluded. "Draco feels the same about his life. His youth, at the very least."

Lucius inclined his head. "Karma at work then, yes?"

Narcissa resisted an unladylike shrug. "Perhaps,"

* * *

 **Author's note:** I hope this tugged at some feels for some of you. Despite babies happening (yey!) I'm intrigued by dear ole Lucius :)

Replies to guests

 **Guest:** Thank you! Glad you thought so :)

 **Guest2:** Thank you! Happy that you liked the update!

 **E.S.** : Oh good! I'm sure Draco felt some good relief too :D


	60. Seven Years

_May 19th, 2012_

"Nysa, eat the mashed bananas, _please?_ " Hermione begged as she removed the spoon from her daughter's mouth. Unfortunately, the yellow mush still dribbled from her lips. And then she grinned.

"Told you, mum," Aiden said as he bit into his toast. "Nysa doesn' like ba-anas."

"Aiden, stop mimicking Uncle Ron and chew with your mouth closed," Draco lightly scolded. He smirked at Hermione who had cocked a brow at the remark. Even after all these years he had to throw one out from time to time.

"It's okay, Nysa," Caelum encouraged. "Bananas are disgusting."

Aiden snorted. "Weirdo,"

" _You're_ the one who hates chocolate frogs," Caelum counterd. "Who doesn't like chocolate frogs?"

"They move when you try to eat them! It's like trying to eat a real frog!"

"And that's why you bite off the legs first," Draco grinned as he sipped his tea. "That way they don't hop away."

Aiden's face fell with pure horror while both Draco and Caelum laughed. Even Nysa giggled which added to the difficulty of trying to get her to eat. Hermione decided to give up for the moment and sat back in her seat as her eyes passed over the table. This was her family. Despite all the hell and torment trying to get here, they did, indeed, get here. From her two miracle children Caelum and Nysa, to Aiden, who caused her to gain hope when it had been lost, to Frizzle, the freed house elf who still took it upon himself to help where needed, even when not asked (like making breakfast), and to Draco, the person Hermione was the most proud of as his journey, no one could deny, had been the hardest, lasted the longest, and was still going.

"Mum, Nysa's making her bathroom face," Caelum pointed out. Lo and behold Nysa's face was scrunched up in a fretful fashion before that familiar odor hit the air.

Hermione turned to Draco, smiled and said, "Your turn."

"Darn, I knew I should've taken the late night shift," Draco half-joked before getting up from the table and taking Nysa from her highchair. The crying started when he did, but he merely grinned as he walked with her from the kitchen and through the house upstairs.

"No need to fret," Draco cooed as they made it to her nursery. "I'm going to get you all cleaned up so your mum can try to feed you again."

Nysa's face was streaked with tears, her loud cries toning down to little whimpers. Draco's own tears were ready to spring when he finally got Nysa's diaper undone.

"Hell, that's ripe," he wrinkled his nose. "I'll never get used to that." Nysa laughed and kicked her feet while Draco got rid of the offending item. "Yeah, you laugh alright. At least you won't be a pee-shooter like your brothers. _That_ was an experience."

Children were an experience, period, but Draco loved every moment of it. Even times like these.

"Are you good now? Draco asked after he was finished. He took the happy grin on her face as a yes and picked her back up. Her hands gravitated to his face, namely the light, well-maintained 5-o'clock shadow he'd taken to keeping. She liked to play with it, and he let her, even if it made his chin sore.

That's the kind of thing you did for your kids.

* * *

 _February 22nd, 2013_

Draco liked to come home to find Hermione waiting for him. It was like a daily welcome home present. He was greeted with smiles, a kiss, and a hug meant to break bones. Anyone would think that he'd gone on an extended trip and had just come back. Throw in his daughter on her hip or clumsily walking behind her mother and his sons running from wherever they were in the house to meet him, it was nice.

Tonight, however, Draco got a different vibe. Hermione wasn't waiting for him and none of his children were in sight. He poked his head out into the hall and frowned. Maybe they were over at his mother's? The answer to that was a "no" as Hermione stepped into the hall from their bedroom and smiled, albeit not as brightly as usual, and gestured with her head to follow her. Draco took a deep breath and did as she instructed and followed her into their room.

"Something tragic happened, didn't it?" Draco asked after he closed the door. He should be used to such events by now. Hermione, however, shook her head.

"No, nothing tragic. You do have to have a talk with your sons, though. While your mother was watching Nysa, I was with Aiden and Caelum at school meeting with their teacher."

"Ah, brought to school one of George's toys again, didn't they?" He suggested, feeling all sorts of relief overcome him.

"Not this time. They were 'defiant,' to use their teacher's words, when they refused to do an assignment given to them."

"You're kidding. They worship learning just as much as you do."

"'Worship' is a bit much," Hermione chuckled. Then she sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Draco, they have to do a history report on the war."

There went Draco's relief. He knew that this day would come eventually, but he'd been trying to forget it. At least there was some comfort in knowing that both he and Hermione had had talks with their sons on more than one occasion about their pasts. One conversation when they were eight about what a Deatheater was wasn't going to be enough. And so, over time they were given more details about the war. His and Hermione's parts in it, both the good _and_ the bad. It had been...difficult at times, but in time they had understood and appreciated the fact that their father had changed for the better.

"They didn't want to do the assignment because, to quote our boys this time, the history book is wrong."

Draco blinked. Then he smiled. "Is that so?"

"Mhmm," Hermione followed suit in his smile. "They told their teacher, in front of the entire class no less, that they would trust their parents more than some book. Needless to say, I think that's why they've been labeled as defiant. Not to mention why their teacher hates me now."

Draco laughed. "What did you do?"

"Told her that I was proud of them, of course," Hermione beamed. "And that, yes, they will do their assignment, but they'll write it as it happened."

"I'm curious now. What does the book they have say that's wrong?"

"For starters, that you helped to capture Harry, Ron, and me at your Manor. It also _conveniently_ leaves out how you didn't identify Harry when Bellatrix asked."

"Typical," Draco huffed. "What else?"

"I believe it was you who set the Room of Requirement ablaze with Fiendfyre instead of Goyle and proceeded to attempt to kill me and my friends."

"Holy hell, seriously?"

Hermione nodded and then grinned. "Aiden and Caelum threw quite a fit over that. They're waiting in their room so that you can go over the 'proper' story."

"You mean _we_ ," Draco said as he took her hand. "I'm not the only one getting homework tonight."

Hermione immediately pouted as Draco led her from the room. "Aw, do I have to?"

"Are you actually _whining?_ " Draco laughed.

"Yes,"

Draco shook his head, laughing still, and stopped short of their sons' bedroom door and gathered her in his arms. "You are the oddest, yet loveliest woman I have ever had the pleasure to know and have in my life."

Hermione willed herself not to blush, but it was quite impossible. "Kiss arse," she said to save face. Draco kissed her forehead.

"Thank you. Now let's go get Aiden and Caelum high marks on this thing."

* * *

 _September 3rd, 2014_

"She's still crying, you know," Ron chuckled as he leaned against the wall. "She walks pass Rose's bedroom and bursts into tears."

Draco laughed. "Lavender's not any better than Hermione. The difference is she says that she's fine, but then I hear a sniffle as she walks away."

"What are we chatting about gents?" Blaise asked as he strolled up with his own drink. Ron smirked.

"How many buckets of tears our wives have shed since the oldests have gone off to Hogwarts."

"Buckets?" Blaise scoffed. "Liliana could flood a whole city."

"I could not!" Liliana huffed as she came to stand next to her husband. "I only cry a little."

"Now, now," her husband grinned. "There's no need to lie."

Liliana could feel her face reddening, but as she was about to reply, the crowd of parents taking up space in the Malfoy living room began to quiet down.

"I've got the letter!" Hermione announced. She was standing in the front of the room, holding said letter in her hands as though it was a precious thing. It was from Aiden and had remained unopened since it arrived that morning, waiting to be read by the families gathered in room. Why all the dramatics? They all had decided to turn tonight into a "Sorting Fest" considering three of the group of friends' children had gotten on the Hogwarts Express just two days ago.

"I'll take that," Harry said as he snatched the letter from her. "Your kid's sorting is in here, so you'll be surprised just as everyone else."

Hermione frowned and grumbled, but sat down as instructed as Harry opened the letter.

"Okay, here we go. 'Dear mum, just like you asked, here's what happened at the sorting. Tell Uncle Blaise and Aunt Liliana that Giana was sorted into...Slytherin!'"

"Thank Merlin," Blaise breathed as everyone cheered. Harry continued once they were all settled.

"'Uncle Ron and Aunt Lavender will be happy to know that Rose...followed family tradition and ended up in Gryffindor. She's really happy to be in the same House as Victoire. As for me, I ended up in…" Like the others, Harry paused for dramatic effect, but longer, and long enough for Draco to groan aloud.

"Potter, I'm going to strangle you."

"...Slytherin with Giana," Harry finished with a grin. "Merlin, not even your biological kid and he still ended up in Slytherin? Well, I think that solves the nature versus nurture debate," he chuckled.

Hermione laughed. "I guess so." She looked back at her husband from her spot on the couch and said, "You're thrilled, I imagine?"

"Are you kidding?" Draco beamed. "I'm over the bloody moon. Ten galleons Caelum follows."

"I'll take you up on that," Uriel chimed in. "Caelum is a proud Gryffindor if I've ever seen one."

Draco shivered. "Bite your tongue."

"Hey," Hermione pouted. "What's wrong with being a proud Gryffindor?"

"Nothing," Draco backpedaled before muttering, "that I can say aloud."

"Too bad no Hufflepuff," Ginny said. "Poor Teddy was hoping not to be alone again."

"At least he can take pride in watching out for his 'favorite kids' as prefect," Harry countered, although Draco snorted.

"Watching? Turning a blind eye, you mean. Detention slips within two weeks. I guarantee it."

Hermione gasped. "Don't say that! It would be terrible if they broke school rules."

Ron chuckled from where he stood. "Alright, Miss Polyjuice."

Hermione's cheeks reddened at that as she leaned further back into her seat. "That was...for investigative purposes."

"Investigative purposes?" Draco repeated. "For what?"

Harry laughed. "Funny you should ask…"

* * *

 _September 4th, 2014_

Hogwarts was bigger than any of his family had told him. And those moving staircases! How did people not get turned around on those things?

Aiden had a near panic attack yesterday trying to find one of his classes and neither Giana nor Rose could help because it was one of two that they didn't have together. Luckily, Teddy had run into him and became his personal escort before he totally lost it.

Today was better, thank Merlin. Professor McGonagall had given him a map of the school which helped tremendously. He had a feeling it had something to do with not wanting him late for her class. At least Giana was sharing this class with him, but they didn't sit near each other though (assigned seating). As Aiden waited for the class to start, a wide-eyed blond girl sat next him. He remembered her well from the sorting because her huge eyes didn't leave him from the moment his name had been called to the moment he went over to the Slytherin table. It had been creepy then and sure creepy now that it was up close.

"You're a Malfoy?" She asked him suddenly. He looked at her and replied simply,

"Yes,"

The girl tilted her head and tapped a finger on her chin as she did. It was even more awkward now that he was looking at her. Not just the fact that her eyes were right on him, but she also wasn't blinking.

"You don't look like a Malfoy," she said plainly. "My mum told me that when I got here that I should find Draco Malfoy's son and be his friend."

Aiden blinked. " _Why?_ "

"Kids are mean and not many people like Mr. Malfoy, your dad.

Again Aiden blinked. Slower this time. Was this girl for real?

"Anyway," she continued brightly. "You're not what I was expecting."

"Let me guess," he humored her. "You were expecting blond hair and far paler skin, yes?"

"That's right."

"I'm adopted."

"Oh…. I see. Well, I'm your new friend," the girl replied happily with her hand outstretched. "Anna Scamander. Ravenclaw."

"Um, thanks?" Aiden dumbly answered as he shook her hand.

"You're welcome! Do you want to help me de-Nargle the Great Hall later?"

Before Aiden could even ask what a Nargle was, the class had begun, and his self-appointed new friend Anna gave him one big smile and then turned straight ahead to listen to their professor. He was floored, honestly, but there was nothing that he could do except run with it.

Hogwarts was _definitely_ one interesting place.

* * *

 _December 25th, 2014_

"Look at the cake!" Lily exclaimed as she stared at the massive six-layer cake. "When do you think we can eat it?"

"I heard mum say after dinner was served," Albus replied to his sister. "So later."

"Aw," Lily whined, but Raphael, Blaise's son, gently knocked into her shoulder.

"That doesn't mean we can't have icing at least," he said sneakily. "No one's going to notice if we just stick a finger in there."

"Are you _sure?_ " Hugo asked warily. "There's like a million people here."

"Exactly!" Raphael nodded. "And they're all out there having too much fun to pay attention to us. Look at them."

Hugo and Lily did just that and yes, there were tons of guests, and yes they were all in their own little worlds as they enjoyed the evening. As well they should. Aside from it being Christmas, it was also their Aunt Hermione and Uncle Draco's wedding anniversary. Uncle Draco's mum had planned the party for everyone and she went all out. It was in a really large ballroom with a Christmas tree in four different corners, sparkling chandeliers on the ceiling, house elves serving little snacks, long tables with food that people could grab themselves, and then, of course, _the cake_.

"Alright, you four," Victoire said as she approached. "You've been staring at this cake for _way_ too long. Away from the table."

"We were just looking at it! Honest," Raphael smiled. Victoire cocked her brow before shaking her head and chuckling.

"Of course you were. Now go on."

The four children frowned and ran off while Victoire smiled after them. She understood the appeal of a large mass of sugary goodness and wanting to devour the whole thing. She was a kid once too. Well, she still was if you were to get technical about it, but sixteen was a far cry away from being six or seven.

Victoire panned the room and examined the festivities from where she stood. She spotted Narcissa having her fun of ordering around any and every house elf to make sure that the party maintained a high level of excellence. She saw her parents speaking with her Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny. Aunt Hermione was having an animated conversation with her friends Lydia and Liliana. And of course there was Teddy, getting reprimanded as usual by his grandmother, Andromeda, for his choice in hair color for the evening. Victoire chuckled at that. Teddy's hair was always something different. And somehow always perfectly complemented the curve of his face, brightening his eyes, not to mention bringing out the beauty in his smile…

"Someone put a Confundus Charm on you or something?"

Victoire blinked. A hand was being waved in front of her face and it was attached to the man of the hour.

"Oh," she replied sheepishly. "Sorry."

"You should be," Draco teased. "Besides, you haven't asked me to dance once for the evening. I'm actually starting to feel offended."

Victoire laughed. "I would have asked eventually. I'm just…" she paused when she heard Teddy's laugh from somewhere and sighed. "...A little distracted at the moment."

Draco cocked a brow in the air and began searching the crowd of party guests to try to see what (or who rather) Victoire was so obviously searching for. Eventually he heard his favorite niece's lovesick sigh and he followed her gaze more closely, smiling, when he found the culprit.

Draco stroked his chin as he said, "It wouldn't have anything to do with a five-foot-nine, metamorphmagus I call 'cousin,' does it?"

Victoire felt herself blush terribly as she shamelessly nodded. "It's awful. We've been friends since we were kids and I don't know what to do."

"I would think actually _telling_ him that you like him would be a first step, no?"

"Oh sure, like you just went up to Aunt Hermione and told her that you liked her."

"Not a good example," Draco chuckled. "Our love story is off the beaten path of normal. You, on the other hand, should be able to go the regular route."

"And if Teddy doesn't think of me as more than just a friend?" Victoire frowned. "I'd be devastated. I'd rather stay in a state of unknowing in that case."

"Sure, sure. And drool over him from afar. That's an attractive look."

" _Uncle Draco…_ "

Draco smirked and stretched. "I'll take care of it. This is a far simpler trouble than I thought you might need help with."

"Yeah? What did you think I'd need help with?"

"Threaten or torture someone."

Victoire blinked in surprise. "I'm sorry? Why would I need your help with _that?_ "

"You never know," Draco said with a shrug. "However, if either had been the case I would've said yes. I would've just needed time to prepare," he added with a wink. "Give me about...fifteen minutes."

"You're going to talk to him? _Now?_ " Victoire gasped with wide eyes. "Uncle Draco, I don't think-"

"Do you want to find out how he feels or not?"

Victoire stared at him for a full thirty seconds before tilting her head and saying, "...Yes?"

Draco smiled. "Alright then."

Draco walked away and through the partygoers to make it to Teddy who was having the time of his life having a conversation with one of the house elves.

"Draco!" Teddy greeted vibrantly. "Have you tried one of these things?" He asked, a pastry in his hand. "It's delicious! Kripley was just telling me how to make it."

Yes, he'd had the pastries. Yes, they were fantastic. However, Draco had finally noticed his cousin's hair and was transfixed by it.

"Purple, white, and pink?"

"What? Too much?" Teddy questioned. "My grandmother thinks it looks ridiculous."

"I wouldn't say 'ridiculous.' I _will_ say that you've nailed the unicorn look quite well."

Teddy screwed up his mouth for a moment before letting a bit of dark brown take the place of white between the purple and pink.

"Better?"

"Much," Draco nodded. "So, do you want to date Victoire or not?"

Teddy stumbled where he stood. "Wow," he said sheepishly as he rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. "Just going to drop that right on me, are you? No preamble or anything…"

"We talked about your hair for three minutes. That's a preamble."

"Um, yeah, I guess so."

"Exactly. So? Your answer is what?"

Teddy grew red in the face much like Victoire had done previously. If that wasn't indication enough, his eyes subtlety searching for the witch in question was answer enough.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because she's going to die if she doesn't find out how you feel about her."

Teddy's mouth fell open. "Victoire likes me? _Likes me_ , likes me?"

Draco grinned. "I think she'd melt into a puddle if it was physically possible."

Teddy began smiling like a madman. "Really? I guess I don't have to be scared to ask her out anymore."

"That a boy," Draco encouraged as he slapped a hand onto his shoulder. "How long have you liked her anyway?"

"I…don't think there was a time I had ever _not_ liked her."

"Well, look at you. A regular romantic."

"Oh please," Teddy snorted. "If anyone's a 'regular romantic' it's you. You and Aunt Hermione are great, mind you, but you're also a little sickening together."

"So we've been told," Draco said brightly. "To this day I have no idea what she sees in me, but I take advantage of it as much as I can in case it's just a dream."

"A dream?"

"Yeah… A too good to be true type of thing," he answered, taking the time to find his wife, spotting her across the way and laughing at something his mother was saying. "There are days that I sit around, waiting to wake up, completely sure that none of this is real."

"And when you realize that it is?"

"I punch myself in the gut so I don't turn into a pathetic mess."

Teddy laughed. "Does it work?"

Draco smiled. "Not at all."

* * *

 _September 3rd, 2015_

"Where's my ten galleons, Mr. Malfoy?" Uriel teased.

"For Merlin's sake, can you wait? I'm wallowing here," Draco brooded.

Hermione watched the exchange from afar and laughed hysterically.

"I could kiss you, Hermione," Lydia chuckled. "It's only because of you could centuries of Malfoy tradition die in one day."

"Muggleborn for a wife and a Gryffindor for a son along with Harry Potter's firstborn. Not bad," Hermione grinned. "I think the cherry on top would be if either James or Albus marries Nysa. Think of it, a Potter on the Malfoy family tapestry."

"Lucius would die," Ginny cried joyfully as she wiped tears from her eyes.

"Absolutely," the brunette agreed. "My marriage into the family was a big enough nail in his coffin already. If Nysa is in Gryffindor too, even better."

"Too bad Aiden and Caelum will be out of school by the time she goes," Liliana commented.

"True, but the rest of the kids will be there already by the time she does."

"And all boys minus Lily," Ginny chuckled. "Merlin forbid she tries to date."

"I think Draco will have that well covered," Hermione laughed.

"Daddy Malfoy to the rescue," Lydia beamed, contently watching as the blond in question finally forked over the ten galleons to her husband.

* * *

 _November 2016_

Aiden was looking over his list and every two seconds he was writing down something new. By the looks of it he'd be on his second roll of parchment soon enough.

"Anything else that you want, your highness?" Aiden asked his brother who was walking beside him towards the Hogwarts grounds. " _A crown_ , perhaps?"

"Hey, it's not my fault that I have to wait another year to go to Hogsmeade," Caelum rebutted. "Oh! Licorice wands. Two of them. No! Three."

Aiden shook his head as he wrote down the new item. "I'm going to run out of pocket money at this rate."

Caelum snorted. "The day we run out of money is the day Nysa says that you're her favorite."

"Oh, so we're going to be broke then?" Aiden smirked. "Regardless, next time ask Giana or Rose to buy you stuff."

"What? And be inconsiderate?"

Aiden sighed and rolled up his parchment. He and Caelum had finally made it onto the grounds. They were going to meet Giana and Rose there. Aiden had asked Anna if she had wanted to go, but she declined, saying that she wanted to take advantage of an empty dormitory and look for Wrackspurts on the pillows of her roommates. Still an odd girl, but ultimately one of his best friends.

"What's _that?_ "

Terry Mclaggen had snatched a small, thin object from Aiden's hand and had brought it up to his narrow eyes to inspect. His two friends, thing one and thing two, were equally enthralled.

"It's called _a pen,_ " Aiden answered irately. "It's used for muggle writing."

Terry huffed. "What do you need a muggle pen for?"

"Beats having an ink set floating after me while walking and writing, don't you think?" Aiden said smartly as he held out his hand. "Either eat it or hand it back, Mclaggen."

"You know, Malfoy," Terry continued, still with the pen in his hand. "I'm surprised that you even have access to this thing. Your father know you're using one of these things?"

"Oh look," Caelum rolled his eyes. "A not-so-subtle wisecrack about our dad. Is that _all_ that's ever on your mind? So our father was a Deatheater. Big deal. He's the Head the Dark Arts Division in the Auror Department too. Got something to say about that?"

"Yeah, it means that the Ministry's daft to let your evil father near a wand. Don't worry. They're bound to realize their mistake sooner or later. And my parents and I will be seated first row at his sentencing."

Caelum narrowed his eyes and balled his firsts, but Aiden held onto his shoulders before it became a three-on-two situation. He didn't miss how Mclaggen's lackeys were ready to jump in.

"Don't, Caelum. Obviously," Aiden sneered at his classmate, "he doesn't get it."

Mclaggen scoffed. "Get what?"

Aiden smiled. "That with a former Deatheater, turned Dark Arts Auror as our father, my brother and I have learned a lot of tricks." He pulled out his wand and aimed it. "Do you want to see?"

Mclaggen stared at the wand that was directly in his face. Time ticked away as no one moved. Aiden tightened his hold.

"Anything else to say Mclaggen?" Aiden teased.

"... Let's get a move on boys. We've got a Hogsmeade trip to get to."

Mclaggen finally walked off. When he and the other two were out of earshot Caelum spoke.

"Dad didn't teach us anything. He said that he'd let grandma do it when we're older before mum killed him."

"I know," Aiden replied as he put his wand away. "Mclaggen didn't know that, though."

Caelum looked at him. "What if he called your bluff?"

Aiden shrugged. "I didn't think that far ahead, honestly."

His little brother groaned and threw his hands into the air. "Reckless! Absolutely, _reckless!_ How you got sorted into Slytherin is beyond me."

"...I asked to be."

Caelum, who had just started walking towards the mass of students gathering far off, stopped and stared at his brother in disbelief. "You what?"

"The sorting hat wanted to put me in Gryffindor, but I chose Slytherin."

"Why?"

"Honestly? I wanted to be like dad."

Caelum stroked an imaginary beard and nodded in approval. "Kudos, big brother. Truly. Oh, and-"

"Ow!" Aiden yelled as he rubbed his arm. Caelum had just punched him in it. "What was that for?"

"We could've been in Gryffindor together, you arse."

Aiden smiled and wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulders. "Well, would you look at that. My brother loves me."

Caelum scowled, although a smile was still leaking through. "Do not. I'd curse you in a heartbeat."

Aiden laughed. "Liar. Besides, it's not all bad. You've got James."

"Yeah, that's true. Speaking of him, I've got to find him after this. He said that he had something to show me. Something about a map…"

* * *

 _October 22nd, 2017_

Nysa's father liked to take late afternoon naps on Sundays sometimes. When he did his sleeping place of choice was the living room couch. She liked to play with her toys next to him when he was asleep because sometimes he'd make the funniest noises.

However, instead of just playing, Nysa had other thoughts on her mind. She eventually set her toys aside and sat on her knees to look at her father. He was sleeping on his back, hands folded over his stomach, and legs crossed at the ankles.

"Daddy," Nysa said softly. He didn't answer, so she poked him in the side as she repeated, " _Daddy_."

"Yes, Nysa," he yawned. "What is it?"

Draco had expected a response, but he wasn't entirely surprised when he felt weight on his stomach and chest. He cracked one eye open and found two small grey ones staring back at him.

"Can I have some of the candy Aiden and Caelum sent home?"

Draco smiled. He glanced at the clock on the wall behind his daughter's head and saw that it nearly six.

"Mum is going to have dinner ready soon, you know."

"But mummy puts me to bed after dinner. I can't get candy then," Nysa pouted.

Yes, that was true. Nysa's bedtime was at eight and candy just before bed was a recipe for disaster. So was candy before dinner when his wife had a "no dessert before dinner policy."

Sadly, Draco was a huge sucker for the little girl who looked just like her mother sans the color of her hair and eyes.

"Can you be sneaky and quiet?"

"I don't know. Mummy says I have loud feet for a tiny person."

Draco laughed and tapped her on the nose. "And that, Nysa, is what magic is for."

Now Draco knew better than to make a child invisible, but Nysa wouldn't know any different. She slid down from off of him and onto the floor, eagerly waiting for "Operation Candy" to start.

"Alright," Draco swung his legs off the couch. "After I do this only I can see and hear you, okay?"

Nysa nodded ecstatically. "Okay!"

Draco took out his wand from his deceptively oversized pocket, did a few nonsense wand waving, and then grinned.

"Okay, you're good to go. Let's get started, shall we?"

Nysa squealed in delight and fled towards the kitchen. Hermione was right. She really did have loud steps for a small girl. Anyone could hear her coming from miles away. Once she got to the kitchen, Draco following closely behind, Hermione turned from her chef mastery at the stovetop to the little girl who had stomped her way in.

Nysa looked back at her father. "Are you sure mum can't see me?"

Hermione cocked a brow at Draco who whispered to Nysa, "I'm sure. _The spell I used,_ " he added for his wife's benefit, "is working perfectly."

Hermione picked up on his words and, feigning ignorance, headed straight for the refrigerator near where her daughter stood, picked out a head of lettuce and went to the sink to wash it off.

"See?" Draco reassured her.

Hermione kept her smile to herself and tried her best not to break character. It was a bit hard, though, when she heard Nysa ask her father how she was supposed to reach the candy when it was sitting on top of the refrigerator. She turned her head slightly to catch Draco's face, but he merely mouthed, " _Just one piece."_

With a roll of her eyes Hermione headed back to the refrigerator, stood on her toes a bit and tutted. "Draco, it's filthy up here. Can you take this down," she pointed to the candy jar, "so I can give it a good clean?"

"Of course," Draco replied. He went right to the refrigerator, took down the jar, and while Hermione (actually) cleaned what she could while balancing on her toes, Draco took out a licorice wand and gave it to Nysa.

"I got it! You can take the magic off now!" Nysa yelled as she ran from the kitchen.

Hermione laughed once her daughter was gone, taking the candy jar from Draco and placing it on the table. "I hope you take full responsibility for spoiling her."

"I'm weak to the women in this house," Draco admitted as he leaned on the kitchen counter, cupping his hands with his face. "Is that a problem?"

"Oh, well, when you put it _that_ way," Hermione chuckled as she also leaned on the counter. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Anything you want," he happily answered. "I'm yours."

* * *

 _August 1st, 2018_

Lucius was tired. Newspapers and journal writing could only keep you for so long while locked behind dark, brick walls. The same went for counting cracks in the ceiling and listening to ocean waves.

However, today was a new day. He felt optimistic and invigorated as he sat down on the pitiful excuse Azkaban called a bed and penned the last letter he hoped to send to his wife from this dismal place.

 _Narcissa,_

 _My parole hearing is in two weeks._

 _Lucius xx_

* * *

 **Author's note:** At just over 5,500 words, longest chapter I've written for this story yet! I love this chapter because it's all the things that I wanted to write about, but wouldn't be able to make into a long enough chapter/could be unnecessary filler. So, this the drabbles chapter, not to mention filling you in on major events that's happened over the course of seven years.

So it doesn't come as a surprise, the last chapter will either be at 62 or 63. I haven't quite decided, but the end is nigh and I'm...happy yet sad at the same time.

-WP

Replies to guests

 **A:** Yey! Here's your "more"! I hope that it met your expectations :)

 **Guest:** "I like the way you've written Lucius..." THANK YOU! I don't write Lucius very much or give him large roles (or Narcissa for that matter), so I wanted to take this story to explore him and his character. You've seen tidbits of him here and there, but this story will wrap up with more of him. I can't wait to post it.

 **Guest1:** "It's a GIRL!..." Hahaha YUP! Two boys already, you've got to throw a girl in there lol. I hope that you liked Nysa both baby and a little older as well as the rest of the glimpses of kids. It's kind of hard putting everything in, but I hope it worked well enough! Classes are over now, so I'm hoping to finish this before they start again lol. As for Ron: married Lavender and they have Rose and Hugo together :).

 **Guest2:** "Aww their daughter..." Yes! She's here! And safe, thank goodness. And you got to read her as an older kid too. She's just too sweet for words. I just love Hermione and Draco (especially Draco) with kids. It's enough to give you diabetes I swear.


	61. When Reality Strikes

_August 4th, 2018_

"Holy hell, you've destroyed the house," Draco said as he made it downstairs.

"That's what I've been telling them," Mr. Granger shrugged. "I tried to stop them, I swear."

"Oh, it's not that bad!" Hermione countered, but Draco certainly begged to differ. He, like his children, had been banished from the house earlier that day so that his wife, mother-in-law, and Frizzle could take part in a mass "deep cleaning" of the whole house. Granted, between Hermione and Frizzle the house was always immaculate, but darn the woman's need to be a perfectionist every four months.

"Not that bad, huh?" Draco chuckled. He was currently in the living room and glanced at each piece of furniture Frizzle was levitating as Hermione used her wand to pass a broom under one and while she and her mother handled two other spots manually.

"By the time you grab the kids from your mother's we'll be finished," Hermione said brightly.

"Ah, I know what that means. 'Get out, Draco, you're ruining my concentration.'"

"I didn't say that."

Draco laughed. "Didn't have to. Make sure they don't hurt themselves," he added to his father-in-law.

"Of course," Mr. Granger nodded and grinned.

Draco whistled on his way to his mother's along the path between their houses. Over the years he and his mother had planted various flowers along both sides of it. There was the hope to put an archway of vines over it at some point, but when Nysa was older. Although not allowed to travel this path alone, she was still a little adventurer, and all three adults liked the idea of being able to see her if she ventured out.

"Mother?" Draco called as he entered the house. As an answer, two sets of feet hurdled towards him followed by another, slower set.

Aiden was laughing hysterically as he trailed behind his brother and sister. He even had to wipe a tear.

Draco tilted his head. "What's so funny?"

"Go on, guys," Aiden said to his siblings with a wide grin. "Tell dad what's so funny."

Both Caelum and Nysa shot him deadly glares before yelling at him. Oddly though, they were yelling, but no sound was coming out.

"Aiden, why can't they speak?"

Aiden couldn't answer him. He was doubled over in laughter again and couldn't get a single word out.

" _Aiden,-_ "

"Sorry, sorry, but it's too good," Aiden chuckled. "Grandma did it. I would've taken the spell off myself, but you know, no magic outside of school and all..."

Draco's brows shot up. With a sigh he told Aiden to wait for him while he allowed Caelum and Nysa to lead him to his mother. They found her lounging peacefully out on the lanai.

"You put a Silencing Charm on my children?"

Narcissa turned in her son's direction, looked over at her grandchildren and then tutted to herself. "Oh, silly me. I completely forgot."

She got up from her seat with her wand in her hand and elegantly strode over. "In my defense, I did warn them. They were having the silliest argument and their shouts were echoing off the walls. Now," she said as she stared at Caelum and Nysa in turn. "No more shouting matches, yes?"

The children nodded vigorously. Narcissa smiled brightly and clapped her hands once.

"Lovely!"

Narcissa took off the Silencing Charm. There was a calm, suspicious silence before Caelum looked down at Nysa and grinned.

"I'm still right."

"You are not!"

"For Merlin's sake," Draco rolled his eyes. He took out his own wand and aimed it at his feuding kids, putting that Silencing Charm right back on. "Your grandmother had the right idea. I'll take it off in fifteen minutes. Until then head home and take Aiden with you."

The children gave soundless groans before trudging off and away from the lanai. Draco shook his head and smiled after them before his mother captured his attention.

"I'm glad that you came over," Narcissa said to her son. "I…received a letter from your father today. His parole hearing is in two weeks."

Draco froze. Two weeks? _Two weeks?_ Had twenty years really flown by that fast?

"We'll have to attend."

 _We'll have to attend…_

Draco thought about what that would be like. To sit in the stands of the Wizengamot, his father in the middle, and waging a battle within himself about whether he wanted him to be released or not.

"Do you think he'll get parole?" Draco suddenly asked, his eyes wide and expectant. Narcissa sighed.

"I don't know. Considering his heavy involvement with the Dark Lord, he may very well have his parole denied."

"Or approved," he countered. "Our involvement very much had the same depth."

"I suppose so, yes," Narcissa agreed. "I just want you to prepare yourself, Draco. Despite my wishes, you've settled yourself into a world where your father is non-existent. You will have no choice but to coexist with him again if he's released."

"Do I have to?" Draco half-joked. When he was met with his mother's serious face he sighed and ran a hand over his own. "Mother, this is the man who's approved of _none_ of the things I'm most proud of in my life. And you want us to coexist?"

"Yes," Narcissa answered plainly. "If not for your own sake, then for mine? If your father is released from Azkaban my family will finally be complete. Now, don't get me wrong. You, Hermione, and the children have kept me going, but I have still been living my life without my husband. Certainly you won't deny me that?"

A mother's plea would always be a child's kryptonite no matter how old the child. With a sigh, Draco nodded. Anything to get that hopeless look off of her face and out of her tone of voice.

Coexist? With his father? That would be the hardest thing Draco would ever have to do.

* * *

Draco wasn't himself. Ever since his mother informed him of his father's upcoming parole hearing he'd been a wreck. All meals with his family were stiff due to his silence. He could barely get any work done when he was in the office. Even his dreams were plagued with endless scenarios of what his father being home meant. And last night? A full five days after his mother told him of his father's letter? An official Ministry letter was waiting for him at home giving the precise date, time, and location of his father's parole hearing. Friday, August 17th. One week and one day away from today. It shook him so badly that Hermione had forced him to stay in bed and take off from work for the day. Draco, quite uncharacteristically of himself, didn't even fight her on it.

While he was upstairs resting, Hermione had let her parents take the children for the day so that the house could be quiet. In the meantime, she was nursing a cup of tea while giving her third sigh in the past five minutes with Harry by her side.

"I don't know how to help him, Harry," Hermione mused bitterly. "I've seen him broken before, you know that, but this is… It's different. The idea of having his father home is torturing him."

"Of course it's different. It's family. His father, to be specific," Harry replied with a shrug. "Obviously he's got some issues with him."

" _Some?_ That's an understatement. His feelings towards his father are complicated, tragic, and downright horrible. On the one hand I would love for him to work out his problems with Lucius, but on the other I feel like it'll be impossible. The old man's a complete bigoted, blood purist who detests me and his grandchildren. How can Draco compromise with someone like that?"

Harry sighed and ran a hand through is hair. "I don't know. What's worse is that I need him to figure it out so that I know what to do. Hermione… The Wizengamot wants me to speak at the hearing."

Hermione's mouth dropped. "You're kidding. Why?"

"For two, unfortunately, good reasons. One, I'm the Auror Department Head and I can attest to whether I think he'll be a danger to society or not if released. Second, I was in the War fighting against him."

"Damn, those are good reasons," Hermione bit her lip. "But wait, what exactly do you need Draco to tell you to do?"

"Well, less what to do and more or less what to _say._ I hate to admit and endorse this, but I have a bit of a sway with the Wizengamot. That said, they'll lean on my word and the end result will be because of it. With those circumstances in mind, I need Draco to tell me what to say. To tell me what he wants concerning his father."

"Harry," Hermione pouted. "That's hardly diplomatic. You should say what you feel."

"And run the risk of ruining Draco's life?" Harry countered. "Of keeping him holed up in his bedroom? I can't be the one to make that decision. I refuse."

Hermione had her whole bottom lip between her teeth now as she contemplated Harry's words. She let her eyes drift upstairs to where her husband was and felt her heart ache.

"That's why you came by, isn't it?" She asked as she redirected her gaze to him. "To talk to Draco about it?"

"Yes. The Wizengamot wants my answer by the end of the day." Harry paused before glancing towards the stairs. "Is he asleep?"

"Doubt it," Hermione answered sullenly. "I've been trying to get him to do so since he woke up this morning."

"Alright. I'll make it quick."

Hermione nodded while Harry went up the stairs two at a time, although he was hardly in a hurry to have the conversation on his mind. When he reached the bedroom that his best friend shared with her husband he stalled, his hand in a fist and ready to knock. After countless minutes of nothingness, Harry manned up and gave a rap on the door and waited for a response. When he didn't hear anything, Harry slowly and carefully opened the door. He had expected to find Draco in bed, but he was actually at his dresser, in his hand a piece of parchment with a Ministry seal partially visible.

"Hermione, can you-? Harry," Draco amended once he realized that it wasn't his wife who had come into the room. He folded the parchment and set it down. "Shouldn't you be at work?"

"Lunchbreak," Harry said simply before closing the door behind him. "I came by to talk about something."

"Did my father die in prison?"

Harry blinked in surprise. An honest inquiry perhaps, but he wasn't sure if Draco was serious in his question or not. "Um, no. I dropped by to tell you that the Wizengamot wants me to speak at your father's parole hearing."

Draco's shock matched his wife's perfectly. "Do they really?"

Harry nodded. "I have to give them an answer about whether I'll do it or not sometime today."

"Why wouldn't you do it?"

"Why would I want to?" Harry countered. "This is my friend's father for Merlin's sake. I wasn't about to say yes with a smile on my face. Not without knowing what you want me to do."

Draco furrowed his brow. "Sorry?"

"I'm torn here, Draco," Harry admitted. "It's… It's like my sorting all over again with two different sides. From an Auror standpoint, your father's been a model prisoner and I truly believe that he'll do no harm outside of Azkaban. But from a personal point of view, he deserves to rot in prison. Running away at the end of a fight isn't repentance. And honestly? I plan on saying both of those things at his hearing.

'However, those are my opinions. Like I told Hermione, my final say is what the Wizengamot will take. I can't give it, I can't _do this_ , until I know what you want. It's your life that it's affecting after all."

Flabbergasted wasn't a word to accurately describe what Draco was feeling. It wasn't that Harry had taken the time to ask him what he wanted. It was more than that. It was the backwardness of it all. They were enemies at one point. Hated each other with as much animosity a single person could handle. And now, some twenty years later, here was Harry Potter in his bedroom, seriously taking _his_ feelings into account.

"Thank you," Draco said after an eternity. "You're right. My father's release is going to change my life. It already has," he added with an inappropriate chuckle. "But not just mine. Personally, I'd love it if my father stayed in Azkaban for the rest of his days. He hates my wife. Loathes the idea that two of his grandchildren are half-bloods and the other is adopted. And I can already hear him in my ear saying something that will set my entire being on edge.

'But on the other side of that, my mother's been the happiest I've ever seen her at the prospect of my father coming home. What kind of person would I be to deny her what she's wanted so that I can keep my sanity?"

It was a rhetorical question, but part of Draco really wanted an answer. Would he be a horrible son in that case? The protective father to keep his own from emotionally damaging his family?

"No one wins either way," Draco sighed. "Not really. It's probably the worst pick your poison scenario I've ever come across."

"Agreed," Harry titled his head. He rocked back on his heels once before asking hesitantly, "So…which poison are you choosing?"

Draco bit the inside of his jaw. "…Say what you have to in order to let him out. Just be prepared to speak on my behalf if I do something to him that gets me arrested."

Harry grimly smiled. "You got it."

* * *

 _August 17_ _th_ _, 2018_

"Are you regretting telling Harry to be nice yet?" Hermione asked her husband as she fixed his tie.

"No. Oh, alright, yes," Draco amended as Hermione paused her movements and gave him a pointed look. She continued after his admission and slid her fingers over his shoulders once she was through.

"It might not be as bad as you think," she tried to encourage him. "Your father wouldn't want to do anything to run the risk of losing you."

Draco snorted. "I think you overestimate his level of care for me."

"I think you underestimate it. This is the same man who wrote you for months without a single reply from you. He might not be conventional, but he does care about you."

"Maybe," he said with a profound hesitancy. "But that's not enough. You, Aiden, Caelum, and Nysa are an extension of me. Say he cares about me, fine, but if he doesn't accept you then he doesn't accept me and _that_ is the bottom line of it."

Hermione couldn't hold in her smile. She let her hands on his shoulders travel to his cheeks so that she could cup and caress them. "If he cares even an eighth of the amount you do for me and the children, then perhaps there's a shot. Come on." She took his hand and gave it a tight squeeze before heading towards their bedroom door. "We're going to be late if we don't leave now."

Draco took a deep breath and nodded. He would rather be late, but if his father was going to have any chance at coming home then they needed to be on time. The "they" included himself, Hermione, his mother, _and_ the children. Out of everyone he wished to leave the boys and Nysa at home. However, a united front was suggested in order to show the Wizengamot good faith. How would it look otherwise if the potential parolee's family wasn't in attendance?

Draco and Hermione headed downstairs and walked in on Narcissa prepping her grandchildren on their behavior for the day.

"…and you must be silent the entire time," she was telling them. "That means _no feuding_ with your sister Caelum."

"Oh, but grandma she makes it so easy."

"Put a foot out of line and you're grounded," Hermione said as she and Draco neared. "How's that as an incentive for you?"

Caelum smiled and tilted his head in surrender. "Pretty good, I'll say."

Narcissa grinned happily at that before turning to her son. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Draco lied. "We should go. One of you," he addressed the children, "come with your mother and me. The other two go with your grandmother. We all can't fit in the fireplace."

Aiden trotted over quickly knowing good and well that his brother and sister were on a tight leash by their often-strict grandmother. He went to the fireplace with his parents and watched as his mother took a handful of Floo Powder to get them to the Ministry. This was the first time he'd be going to this parents' place of work via Floo. Usually it would be by the visitor's entrance, but because of what today entailed, the family had been granted direct access from their home to the illustrious building.

The first half of the Malfoy family was, unfortunately, _bombarded_ by the media. Aiden had never seen so many camera flashes in his life. It also unnerved him at how reporters were trying to ask his parents questions upon questions. He knew that his parents were famous, but they were hardly attacked down the street as they were at this moment. It had to have been because of his grandfather's parole hearing that the media bugs had come swarming. Aiden supposed were it not for the few Aurors surrounding them that it would be worse. And even with all the chaos, his parents were handling it well, despite the very apparent scowl on his father's face.

Once his grandmother and siblings came through, the entire family was on the move with Aurors guarding them in the front, off to the sides, and to the back. What was crazy about it was that the reporters and photographers were _still_ following them. Aiden glanced down at Nysa and saw how unhappy she looked.

"We're going to be in a room where they can't follow us soon," Aiden told her. Caelum heard him and also examined his sister's state. He held Nysa's free hand, the other occupied by their grandmother, and gave it a squeeze.

"Aiden's right," Caelum added. "And then we'll get to sit for a while."

Nysa nodded. She continued on with her family, her brother on one side of her and her grandmother on the other until they had made it to a _massive_ room. It was in a circle and a lot of people were in the stands on one half of the room. The other half was where she and her family went to sit. She felt a bit sandwiched in as she sat in the middle of her brothers, but she supposed that it was better than sitting between her parents who were much taller.

Nysa yawned as she swung her feet. She leaned forward slightly and looked to her left where her grandmother had her hands clasped tightly. Down to her right her father looked just as nervous and her mother was whispering something to him. Aiden and Caelum were talking over her head and she brooded about being left out of the conversation. It wasn't long, though, until she found something to say. The large room quieted down with the sharp bang of some man's gavel and shortly after that two large doors opened, the creaking noise they offered echoing off the walls.

"That's our grandpa, isn't it?" Nysa said rather than asked her brothers. There were photographs of him at their grandmother's house and so there was no doubt that she could recognize the man.

Aiden nodded. "Yeah."

"I've got to admit," Caelum whispered, "for a guy locked away for twenty years, he looks pretty good."

"Twenty years?" Nysa repeated with wide eyes. "That's a really long time."

"You can say that again. And if everything goes well, he comes home with us today."

"I sure hope not," Aiden mumbled low enough for Nysa not to hear, but loud enough for Caelum. His brother raised a row to show his acknowledgement as well as gave a subtle nod. They both knew enough about their grandfather (including his prejudices) to have good reason not to be excited about his being set free. And even if they didn't know, the tense expression on their father's face was evidence enough. He was a good sense of character, their dad, and if he didn't like someone then it was probably a good idea to get aboard the same train of thought.

"Am I the only one uncomfortable that dad looks just like him?" Caelum said to his brother. Aiden wiggled his hand and gave a shrug.

"All I know is, I don't think I've been happier than right now to be adopted."

Caelum could understand why. People could pin down who he and Nysa were related to by first glance. Aiden, on the other hand, had to explain that no, he wasn't their friend and that, no, he wasn't some distant relative. Whereas Caelum was quite proud be a Malfoy (something his father had instilled in all three of his children from birth), as he stared at the man who symbolized war, that pride was waning.

"You guys doing okay?" Hermione asked her children. They all looked over at her and nodded. She smiled at that, and then turned her attention to Kingsley as the proceedings began. She was thankful more than ever that Lucius's parole hearing was a closed one and that the media wasn't allowed inside. It would have only turned this into a circus show, not to mention hideous reports in the Daily Prophet by the evening.

She spotted Harry sitting with people that she wasn't personally familiar with, but still knew _of_ them. Families affected by the casualties of war. They would be speaking at the parole hearing also, so it seemed. And as Hermione was staring at them all, she thought of how unfair the odds were against Lucius. Not that she was completely sympathetic towards the man, but as a woman all about fairness, the setup was highly one-sided. But then again, Harry had a powerful voice on his own.

Her eyes settled on Lucius then. A little ragged yes, twenty years having aged him although he could have looked far worse. He had thinned a bit too, but if released that would be sure to change. And as though knowing he was currently under scrutiny, Lucius turned his head. He caught sight of them then, the whole Malfoy lot. Hermione wished to know what he was thinking. On a scale from heinous to unbelievably pleasant, she wanted to know what he thought of the people who sat in this section of the courtroom who were supposed to be "on his side." She would never know, she supposed, and held her breath as one of the people chosen to speak at the hearing got up. Instinctively, she glanced down at the far end of the line of her family for Narcissa who was cupping her hands for dear life.

" _...that monster should never be let free."_

That was what the first person said. And the second person said something along those same lines. So did the third. As each person took their turn Narcissa felt her hope dying. It was one thing to know what people thought about you, but to hear it first hand? Although having paid five years of her life for her role in the War, it was house arrest. Hardly a punishment. She didn't have the luxury to walk around among the masses and endure taunts, sneers, and harsh glares. Draco did. And although he often told her of his struggles, seeing the reaction of others towards her husband made her think of her son and what _he_ went through. It was heartbreaking. It was even worse now because her husband's release was hanging on every word these people said. Dismal was how the future looked for Lucius at this point. At least until Harry Potter gave his turn.

In all honesty, Narcissa had been a bit nervous to learn that Harry was speaking at her husband's parole hearing. Although having become better acquainted with him over the years, Harry still had a deeper (and negative) connection to Lucius than anyone. What would he say? That question had plagued her mind day and night and now the moment had come. And in this moment...she was floored. No, he didn't deny or downplay her husband's role in the War. Yes, he had been _very_ candid with his personal interactions with Lucius, but also mentioned that he had served his time. Harry even went as far as to reference (although not outright name) other partakers in the War who were free and that the justice system shouldn't be so uneven. It had been remarkable, truly.

Narcissa looked over her grandchildren's and daughter-in-law's heads to catch Draco's eye. He nodded, fully agreeing that Harry had done splendidly. There was just one other person left to speak: Lucius. He had to give an account of what time in Azkaban had done for him and why he should be set free. A stupid thing to have during a parole hearing in Draco's opinion. Any inmate would say that being imprisoned had changed him for the better. Any inmate would say that he was looking forward to being a productive member of society. And, of course, any inmate would say that he wanted to make up for lost time and be with his family.

 _His family._

Draco's blood boiled at that and even more so when his father dared to look in his direction. At his wife and his children. The same people he would degrade on every visit. How dared he? Draco had half a mind to stand where he was and call him a liar for everyone to hear, but it was too late. The Wizengamot was deliberating. They were voting. And then there were gasps. And five heads to his left there were his mother's sobs.

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy," Kingsley's voice echoed off the chamber's walls. "On this day, Friday, August 17th, 2018, with a Wizengamot vote of twenty-nine to twenty-one, your parole has been granted and you will hereby be released from Azkaban prison."

Draco felt his chest sink. He watched Lucius rise from his seat and nearly run to his mother who had gone to the small partition that separated the seats from the courtroom floor. They hugged over it, garnering claps from at least half the room. Draco, on the other hand, stiffened at the sight. It had happened. What had been a bunch of "what-ifs" had become a reality and it made his eye twitch.

Lucius, his father, was home.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Aaaaand Lucius is home! I love this chapter because you get to see just how everyone feels about his pending release. There was something else I wanted to include with this chapter, but darn it I wrote far more than anticipated lol. So, chapter 62 then. And, if my planning goes right (but I think you're familiar with how badly I predict story lengths lol) chapter 63 will be the last.

-WP

Replies to Guests

 **Guest** : Yey! Glad that you liked it! Hope that this one met your expectations as well :)

 **Guest2** : Thank you! I'm looking forward to the ending too, but I'm also sad about it *sigh*

 **naz** : Here's the "more!" There are two more chapters after this one (unless my imagination goes off the reservation and makes me write more lol)

 **Guest3** : OMG LOL. You are the person I was looking for to talk about Anna! Hahaha. I honestly imagine Luna as a free spirit, meaning that after everything in the wizarding world was good to go, she took off. My headcannon for her in this (and in general) is that she travelled to unknown places in various countries, often where communication was little to none, making it hard to keep in contact with anyone for extended periods of time. I'd like to think that after Anna goes to Hogwarts she gets back in touch with her friends more frequently but vanishes again as she scampers off to discover/study the next creature with her husband Rolf :).

As for Draco, ugh…. He's a wonderful father. And yes, him with Teddy and Victoire was fantastic lol. And yes, Mclaggen is the son of Cormac :)

 **Guest4** : Thanks so much! That's the fun of writing I think. You've got some fluff here, melt your heart moments there, but Lucius is like that black cloud trying to block out the sun. And look here in this chapter! The cloud!


	62. Breaking the Dam

Draco's hug with his father had been cringe-worthy. However, he went along with it because he wanted to provide a good a example to his children. That meant making them say hello and at the very least give him a handshake. Hermione, grown woman as she was, he didn't make her do anything (as _if_ he could). She reacted just as he expected she would and greeted his father with a curt nod and his name.

"Auror Malfoy," one of the Aurors who had escorted the family to the court chamber addressed. "Auror Potter said that you and your family are more than welcome to use the Floo in his office to avoid the media waiting."

"Good," Draco accepted, making brief eye-contact with Harry across the room and nodding. "We should leave now then."

"Very well. After you."

Draco headed the family line. Hermione was just behind him, her eyes keeping watch on their children as one stood on her left and the other two on her right. Narcissa and Lucius were at the rear while Aurors flanked the family on all sides as before. The walk to Harry's office wasn't an entirely loud one, nor was it quiet. Narcissa and Lucius had been professing bouts of gratitude and love to each other from the moment the parole decision had been made. While not very overly affectionate in public, the small doses given would be enough to shock anyone not familiar with his parents.

"Mother, would you and Father like to go first?" Draco offered politely once they had reached Harry's office and their Auror escort had gone. Narcissa nodded eagerly. Her arm had been wrapped around her husband's in a death grip as though letting him go would reverse the Wizengamot's decision.

"Absolutely," Narcissa beamed before turning to Lucius. "I cannot wait for you to see the house. It was decorated with you in mind, of course."

Lucius smiled, patting her hand once as they walked into the fireplace.

"Oh, Draco," Narcissa said before dropping down some Floo Powder. "Stop by once you get settled at home, yes?"

"Will do," Draco nodded. He watched his parents become enveloped by the familiar green flames and then sighed immediately after.

"Alright, one or two of you with me," Hermione urged the kids. Nysa ran over with a wild, "Me!" and mother and daughter disappeared home. That left the "men" behind standing silently until the eldest Malfoy of the three spoke.

"Well," Draco cleared his throat. "What do you think of him?"

Caelum looked up at his father (which wasn't very far up considering he was just a head shorter than his dad now). "Thank Merlin you don't look even half as scary."

"Seconded," Aiden piled on.

That was as much as Draco could've asked for and he took it. They all entered the fireplace and headed home where they dispersed. Nysa was in her room a few doors down, while Hermione was in their bedroom and obviously waiting for him.

"It could've been a worse meet-and-greet," Hermione shrugged. "I had expected him to ignore me completely, not make direct eye-contact."

"Yes, well, he was in public, wasn't he?" Draco reminded. "There's only so much you can show of yourself when in such limelight."

Draco sighed and ran his hands over his face. He was going to yank on his hair next before Hermione stopped him with a gentle grip on his wrists.

"Do you want some good advice?"

Draco smiled a bit as he replied, "Does it come in the form of taste bud-frying alcohol?"

"No," Hermione laughed before lowering his hands to his sides. "Don't give yourself something to stress about until it happens. Your father hasn't flung a curse at me yet, so count it as a blessing. Now, go see your mother and find out what she wanted."

"Yes, _dear,_ " he bowed slightly while maintaining a cocky grin. That only made his wife laugh a bit more before she half-heartedly pushed him through the door.

Draco left his home and took the walk to his mother's. No, his _parents'_ house. It wasn't just hers anymore despite the fact that he had made her the sole owner of it. No, there was a new occupant there, and it was perhaps for that reason the trek between the two locations took twice as long than normal. When he finally got to the front door Draco hesitated. Would he find just his mother? Her and his father? His father alone?

Regardless of who was waiting on the other side to greet him, Draco entered the house. He immediately became distracted by a ruckus deep within the house. He followed the noise and both brows rose on his head when he found the kitchen overrun with his mother's house elves. They were cooking up a storm and it baffled him even further.

"Why are you all cooking so much?"

"Mistress Malfoy ordered her elves to make a feast, Young Master Malfoy," one of the elves replied as she mixed batter in a bowl. "So we are making a feast!"

Draco didn't miss the fact that he was called "Young" Master Malfoy, and it grated on his nerves far more than it should have. Second, he was puzzled as he contemplated the word "feast."

"A feast? Why?"

"For your father's homecoming, of course," Narcissa said from behind her son. She had come downstairs to make sure that everything was going accordingly and, happily, came upon her son in the process. "I have planned a dinner."

"A dinner?" Draco choked. "You planned a _dinner?_ "

"Well, of course I did!" Narcissa answered brightly. "Your father needed a proper welcome when he returned home. I had ordered the house elves to get everything they needed this morning to begin making it and setting the dining room as soon as we arrived home."

Draco continued to stare at his mother like she'd grown a second head. "What if he didn't get released?"

"I had hope."

Draco snapped his mouth shut at that and frowned. There was no denying that. And now that her hope had come to fruition, his mother was ecstatic while he was completely miserable.

"So," Narcissa continued. "As I had planned to tell you, we will have dinner. You, Hermione, and the children will-"

"No," Draco said forcefully. So much so that Narcissa's joyous, yet hardly infectious demeanor had crashed. He cleared his throat and flicked open the top button on his collar in a nervous gesture. "I'll come. I'll _ask_ Hermione if she wants to, but won't force her. The children won't be in attendance. They'll stay far from him until I can trust what comes out of his mouth."

"Draco," Narcissa scolded in a tone more sad than angry. "Your father has much more decorum than that."

"If he does, then this dinner will prove it to me."

* * *

"Mum," Aiden whined. "We don't need a babysitter. I'm fifteen! Caelum's fifteen too! Well, at the end of the year, but still! We can take care of Nysa."

"Oh, sure," Hermione said as she slipped on her shoes. "And your father and I will come home to find her shooting Uncle Ron and Uncle George's fireworks out of one of the upstairs windows. _Again._ "

"Right. That…" Aiden sheepishly replied. "That was an accident."

"So you and your brother have explained, and I hate accidents. That said, Victoire is waiting downstairs for you."

"Okay," he groaned. He groaned even further when Hermione ruffled his hair a little and she grinned. Aiden was quite like his father when it came to his appearance. Don't touch the hair and don't wrinkle the clothes. Those two points were _crucial._

Hermione followed Aiden downstairs where Caelum and Nysa were (surprisingly) peacefully playing Wizard's Chess on the living room coffee table (completely Ron's fault for showing them how to play and strategic moves). Draco and Victoire were near the back door talking.

"I love him terribly, but I'm two seconds away from getting a second bed," Victoire laughed.

Draco smirked at that and spotted Hermione making his way over to him. He waited until she was close enough before he said, "Teddy will figure out the 'Dos and Don'ts' of sharing a bed with a woman soon enough. Either that or he'll get his bits hexed off."

"Oh no, Teddy wouldn't like that at all," Hermione joined the conversation with a mischievous grin. "When it was us, my lovely husband learned better. Especially since I was pregnant at the time and he knew that I'd make good on that promise."

"Absolutely," Draco confirmed. "Now I lay and shiver while she sleeps comfortably under blankets. Heating Charms only last but so long."

Victoire had burst out into hysterics as she shook her head at the pair. "Is it really worth a cold night?"

"To keep my favorite partners in crime intact? Damn straight."

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes at that, ending the gesture with a kiss on his cheek. "We should head on over, Draco."

Draco's head lolled back once before agreeing with a nod. They bid their kids farewell, saying that they'd be back after about two hours or so.

"Exactly how elaborate is this dinner?" Hermione asked.

"My mother had all of the house elves on kitchen duty if that paints a picture for you."

Hermione's eyes widened. Yes, it certainly did. She took an unnoticeable deep breath as they walked over to the house. One thing that was certain was the smell of the home. It was simply heavenly. The house elves had to have worked themselves to the bone and put their hearts and souls into it.

Draco took Hermione's hand and led her to the dining room where, as expected, his mother and father were already at the table. The usually large table that would seat six (Narcissa, her son, daughter-in-law, and grandchildren) had been scaled down for the evening to a simple four-seater. It made Draco cringe. The distance he had been anticipating had been cut down _severely_.

"Hermione, you look lovely!" Narcissa beamed. She then gently nudged her husband beside her. "Doesn't she look wonderful, Lucius?"

Lucius, who had been greatly interested in the dinnerware, looked up. Despite a few obvious wears on the body from two decades in Azkaban (a thinner build, a slight grey hue to his skin, and tired eyes), he appeared no different than when last he had been in the public eye.

His eyes locked onto Hermione briefly before parting his lips and saying, "She is...adequate, I suppose."

Hermione had to bite down on her tongue. Not because she wanted to say something in response, but because Draco had tightened his hold on her hand enough to break a finger bone.

"Draco," she whispered and gestured to her hand. He realized and loosed his grip before ushering them to their seats. Once seated the entire atmosphere was painful, to say the least. Son and wife were staring at their plates. Lucius was interested in the decor. Narcissa was the only one looking at everyone else and it frustrated her as both the matriarch and a hostess.

"Dingle!" Narcissa called in the air.

"Yes, Mistress Malfoy?" Dingle the house elf appeared by her side.

"Ah, there you are. You may bring the first course and continue with the other courses in the proper time schedule and order."

"Right away, Mistress Malfoy!"

No sooner had Dingle left did the food appear. Everyone seemed to be relieved to have something to do other than speak to each other. However, a dinner was more than just stuffing one's face and Narcissa was _not_ going to have that going on at her table.

"Is Victoire watching the children, Draco?" Narcissa asked. Draco looked up and let his fork hover near his mouth before answering.

"Yes. She said it was good timing too. Getting out of the house would let Teddy have a bit of space while he worked on his research."

"Oh, that's wonderful. Andy told me that he's been working so hard. Too hard, in fact. She's taken up using a charm to check his health status every time she visits."

"Harry too," Hermione chuckled. "But it's fantastic work that he's doing and certainly not easy. Any type of research related to lycanthropy can be challenging."

"I beg your pardon?" Lucius interrupted. All eyes turned to him as he continued, "Did you say _lycanthropy?_ "

Hermione lifted her chin a bit before her reply. "I did."

"Why on earth would anyone want to do research on lycanthropy?"

"To help," she said simply. "Teddy's working on a modified version of the Wolfsbane Potion. The effects leave the drinker exhausted most times and at other times desperately ill. He's hoping to provide a better alternative."

Lucius didn't give a reply, although there was a small huff before he resumed eating. Quiet fell on the dinner table again before Narcissa attempted conversation for the second time.

"Hermione, dear, did Xavier write you?"

"Yes, he did. I told him that any time works for me and that I could work with both his and your schedules."

"Excellent," Narcissa smiled before turning to Lucius, "I've told you about Xavier Marsh, haven't I?"

"The muggle fellow, yes,"

"Muggle _born,_ " Hermione couldn't help but say. Tension had filled the air and Narcissa caught Draco's gaze. What was clearly written over her son's face was " _strike one."_

Narcissa cleared her throat. "Xavier has a few investment opportunities he wants to swing our way and I'm sure that it will be quite beneficial. We all made an extraordinary financial gain last year when he had introduced us to… What was it, Hermione? Bit-something?"

"coin, Narcissa."

"Yes, that's right. Perhaps you would like to sit in on the meeting, Lucius? It would concern you as well."

Lucius paused his eating. "Concern me how?"

"Well," she replied with a bit of a smile. "I was hoping to surprise you, but there are a few stocks in your name. Now that you've been released from Azkaban they can finally be turned over to you."

Food was no longer an interest. Lucius had promptly set his knife and fork down and stared at his wife in disbelief.

"You put _muggle stock_ in my name?"

"No," Hermione announced from across the table. "I did. Stock is a lot more robust in the muggle world than it is here, so I figured that it would be better for you. Not to mention with the current exchange rate between muggle money and galleons, you would make far more money this way."

Lucius was the epitome of shocked. "Why would you do that?"

Hermione shrugged. "Just trying to be thoughtful. Figured that you needed to have something of your own."

It wasn't every day that Lucius Malfoy was stunned into silence. For a brief moment, Hermione actually thought that he was appreciative of what she had done. She quickly realized that she was wrong, however, when his eyes narrowed and he raised his head straight in haughty derision.

"Something of my own?" He repeated. "I recall that I did have something of my own and you took it so that it could be overrun with orphaned children."

Draco snapped his head up. "Mother _gave_ the Manor to her. She didn't _take_ anything from you."

Lucius huffed in his son's direction. "Of course, _you_ wouldn't see it that way. You've lost nothing. Not your home. Not your finances. Not your reputation. Not-"

"Don't you dare pretend to understand what I've lost," Draco cut him off with a harsh snarl. Lucius, knowing full well of those losses by way of his wife, understood. Instead of continuing then, Lucius cleared his throat.

"Yes, you have. And yet you have moved on. Am I supposed to do the same so quickly? Am I supposed to be thrilled that a physical representation of my demise wears my family name? And to top it all off, broke tradition and included half-bloods and an adoptee to our family tapestry? I should think not."

Narcissa gasped. "Lucius!" She frantically turned to Hermione as she pleaded, "I am so-"

"There's no need to be sorry on his behalf," Hermione said as she removed the napkin from her lap and set it on her dinner plate. She let her angered glare settle on Lucius before saying, "You're right. None of us can expect you to adjust so easily, if at all. And as you've just insinuated, you're never going to change. Narcissa," she readdressed, "I do apologize, but I think I'll be going home now to the physical representation of your _half-blood descendents_ ," she added for Lucius' benefit, "and relieve our babysitter."

Hermione gave Draco a gentle squeeze on the shoulder before getting up and leaving the dining room. The front door slamming soon after was deafening.

"Well, thank you for dinner, darling," Lucius said as he wiped the corners of his mouth. "It was lovely."

Lucius leaned over and kissed his crestfallen wife on the cheek before rising from the table and leaving the room. Draco's eyes had never left him. Not once. And he, too, got up from the table and followed his father all the while ignoring his mother's call.

Draco found him in one of the lounges. He was sitting down on one of the armchairs, eyes closed, and massaging his temples. The man tensed when he heard noise at the door.

"Narcissa, I know that you must want to discuss what happened over dinner, but I don't."

"You don't have a choice."

Lucius removed his hand from his face and looked up. "Draco. I wasn't expecting to see you."

"Well, I wish I could say that I wasn't expecting dinner to be a catastrophe tonight, but I was. And even then I'm _astounded._ How could you say those things to her?"

"I merely said the truth. What did you want me to do? Lie?"

"Anything would've been better than what you said. Actually, it would've been even better if you had stayed in Azkaban."

Lucius didn't react. He stared at his son, pursed his lips, and muttered a soft, "Hmm. Is that what you really wish?"

"Yes," Draco replied with a sneer. "It was so much easier when you were gone to forget that you existed. To forget how you fucked up my life."

A memory twinged at Narcissa saying something to that effect once before. Although he had never pried before, he supposed now was the time to root out the matter.

"Is that so?" Lucius questioned. "And exactly how did I do that?"

Draco's eyes widened at his question. They grew even more as he watched his father get up from his chair and walk over to the minibar as though this was a friendly chat.

"You let me get branded," he said at his back.

"You wanted it," Lucius replied without turning. Ice tinkled as cubes hit the glass and each sound was a shattering cry to Draco's ears. "You were fighting for the cause."

Draco snorted. "Barely. Do you remember what my task was? I had to kill _Albus Dumbledore_ of all people. I was terrified! Scared out of my mind and you did _nothing_ to take it away!"

"Ah, I see now," the elder Malfoy sighed. He was rummaging through the minibar's cabinets to look for the best liquor. "It's not my 'letting you' become a Deatheater that bothers you. Apparently, my parenting skills are up for question?"

"You're damn right they're up for question!" Draco shouted. "I visited you in Azkaban, shaken to the core about what I had to do, and what did you tell me? You said, 'You have to protect the family, Draco.' 'We'll die if you don't do this, Draco.' What kind of father says that to a petrified kid? What kind of father lets their kid go through _any_ of that while said father stands in the background turning into a crippled mess? A father is supposed to be the one taking care of his family, but not you. I took the brunt of it all. You made me a man when I was a boy and that was _not_ okay."

"Is that all?"

Draco stammered. "What? No, that's not all! And damn it, stop fixing drinks and bloody argue back!"

"Why?" Lucius asked simply. His short glass of firewhiskey was finally prepared and he neatly caressed it in his hand. "Clearly, you have much more to say than I do."

Draco faltered for a moment. But only for that moment. He was shaking with so much rage that it physically hurt. His throat, to be precise, as he yelled at the top of his lungs, "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! YOU HAVE _PLENTY_ TO SAY! _PLENTY_ TO ANSWER FOR! LIKE WHY YOU WERE SUCH A SHITTY FATHER!"

In all his life, Draco had never once yelled at his father. Despite the novelty of it, Lucius didn't blink. He didn't flinch. He showed no reaction at such the strong accusation his son had just bellowed at him. Instead, he replied in a calm, unfazed manner,

"What then, Draco, did you want me to do that would have made me less of a, to use your words, 'shitty father?'"

" _HELP ME!_ " Draco shouted. His chest heaved with the remnants of his anger, but it was quickly ebbing away. Rather than angry, he felt embarrassed. His eyes were just as raw as his throat and he dreaded to know if his cheeks were streaked. He couldn't tell. His face, and entire body, was numb. "You were supposed to help me."

Lucius had finished his drink. He stood silently for several agonizing seconds, glass in hand, contemplating the level of drunk he wished he could be to continue on with this verbal spat. Instead he answered his son.

"Help was not an option."

Lucius set down his glass before returning to his armchair.

"You're right, son. A father is supposed to protect the family. I so happened to fail in that regard. A failure in the Dark Lord's tasks. Thrown into Azkaban when you were fifteen. A decrepit man and utterly useless as our home was overrun by the Dark Lord and the rest of the Deatheaters.

'What you have to understand is that I thought he would _win_ , Draco. Malfoys align themselves with those who can get them far, and it helped very much that the Dark Lord held the same beliefs as I did. Had things worked out I doubt very much that we would be having this conversation. In fact, I'm sure that you would've been proud, not to mention attached at the hip to a pureblood witch.

'But you're not, and he didn't win, and this conversation stands." Lucius sighed and glanced off to the side as he continued. "My actions to get and keep our family at the top were foiled, and now I'm the unfit father who let his son go down the path of long-lasting trauma, remorse, depression, and, quite obviously, hatred of and resentment for me.

'All I wanted was the best for you and your mother. I didn't care how."

The corners of Draco's mouth were salty. He stared at his father, unblinking, and bit the inside of his jaw. "That was a shit way to go about taking care of us."

Lucius looked back at him. "So you've made painfully aware. Have you gotten your tantrum out now?"

Draco swallowed. He stared at the man who still made his blood boil. Who spoke so nonchalantly as his son screamed at him. Who called his rage _a tantrum._

"Yes, but it changes nothing."

* * *

 **Replies to guests:**

 **Guest:** Marathon read! That's a lot to read lol. Thank you! You're hoping that they patch things up after a couple of fights. Well, there goes the first fight!

 **Author's note:** SO! A massive rant is down below lol. If you're patient enough to read it I would greatly appreciate it. On another note, I haven't written the end yet, and depending on how my imagination goes, this fic will either end on the next chapter or on 64. Just wanted to throw that out so you're not blind-sighted in case it ends up being the next one. Now the rant follows...

The dinner scene breaks down just a bit of how Lucius feels/elaborates on what he asked Narcissa at the end of chapter 59: "Why doesn't it bother you that everything we worked for has been taken away?" For Lucius, Hermione is more than just the muggleborn who married his pureblood son and gave him half-blood grandchildren. She represents and has initiated everything contrary to what he wanted for his/his family's life. A lost war. The Malfoy line "tainted." His family home "gone." No money or assets to his name since it's all in Narcissa's and Draco's now. And of money that he does has? Created by muggle stock. He has nothing that belongs to him if you really think about it. Nothing that he can say, "I did that." Now, not to excuse ANY of Lucius' actions or words, I think to come out of Azkaban after twenty years and have this sort of realization truly hit you, Lucius is off-balanced, unnerved, and his pride and confidence ripped to shreds.

Now, time for a fun fact: I had the fight between Draco and Lucius written for a little over half a year. Everything, from the tiniest to the biggest forms of tension, has been building up to this eruption between father and son. I love that scene more than anything in this story because it shows two very drastic sides. You have Draco, unleashing everything he's got (his anger, sadness, regret, etc.) and Lucius...just being Lucius. He has a very "unresponsive" way of responding and that infuriates Draco beyond belief.

For a brief moment, I had written Lucius arguing back, but immediately got rid of it. What prompted that (and the fight in general) had been a Facebook post that I saw a very long time ago related to Lucius not being as cold and emotionless towards Draco as its led to believe. I think that's true. People vary in a lot of ways, and sometimes two people clash. For Lucius, I think his way of showing love and care for Draco (and anyone) is not the kind of emotional expression everyone can respond to. In the fight, no Lucius isn't screaming. He's not even (obviously) angry or upset. BUT he still listens. He heard and internalized everything Draco had said and answered him. He gave his reasoning for his actions and that was that. Straight to the point. Can we move on now? For him, that was closure. For Draco, it definitely wasn't. Draco wanted more. He needed more. However, and quite sadly, he gives up without trying to get it and accepts that that is all his father is going to give him.

That scene...is quite precious to me, and it can speak volumes if you're just willing to read between the lines.

-WP


	63. Soft-Shelled Cold Hearts

From where she sat at the abandoned dinner table Narcissa could hear her son's bellows. The words weren't clear, no, but the agony behind them had been. Some moments later she heard footsteps. Draco passed her and the table, paused for a moment and muttered, "Sorry, Mother." After that he left. Narcissa sat for just a moment longer before having two house elves attend to her needs. She finally moved after that and went in search of her husband. When she found him he was uncharacteristically slumped on a chair in the lounge. She also noticed a half empty bottle of liquor next to him on the floor.

Narcissa cleared her throat.

Lucius looked up at her and immediately felt guilty. His dear wife had put so much work and thought into this evening and it had been completely shattered. He sighed and urged her with a tilt of his head.

"Are you going to yell at me as well?"

"Oh, Lucius," Narcissa tutted. "A lady never yells. Something of which I must point out Hermione exhibited very well tonight."

Lucius held in his snort. Much like the etiquette regarding women and yelling, the same held true for snorting of any kind. It was utterly classless.

A sudden _pop!_ assaulted the air and a house elf appeared at Narcissa's side with a small trunk.

"Nutley has prepared your trunk as you asked Mistress Malfoy."

"Very good, Nutley," Narcissa smiled. "Have my room ready and leave my trunk there."

"Yes, Mistress Malfoy!"

Lucius had grown wide-eyed at the exchange and sat erect once the house elf was gone. "Room? Where are you going, Narcissa?"

Narcissa let her gaze roam her husband's face. It was interesting. He displayed the same expression of loss and regret the day he had been sentenced. Yes, she was furious with him, but a soft calm settled in her heart knowing how empty he was without her. A well-deserved punishment.

"Our son is distressed," Narcissa said simply. "His wife, also upset, is most likely consoling him. That leaves three children unattended while their parents are slaves to their uncontrolled emotions. They are in need of their grandmother, and I will oblige."

Lucius swallowed, having no choice but to nod to his wife's actions. He would be signing his death warrant otherwise. "For how long?"

"However long it takes."

Narcissa walked over to her husband, gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead, and then turned on her heel to leave. As Lucius sat in the room alone, realizing that he was now in this _house_ alone, he determined that his son was right. It may have been better to still be in Azkaban.

* * *

 _August 26th, 2018_

Both Draco and Hermione knew how much Narcissa loved her husband, and so it had been quite the surprise when she had moved herself into their house without so much as a warning. What was even more surprising was for how long she stayed. It was going the second week now which solidified thoughts on Narcissa's character that were already known: _Never_ upset the Malfoy Matriarch.

That wasn't to say that Narcissa didn't speak to Lucius. She Floo Called him every morning, afternoon, and evening. And despite his best abilities to whisper, her husband could be heard, quite plainly, asking her if she was finally coming back home. Hermione believed, wholeheartedly, that her mother-in-law chose to amplify his voice to broadcast his shame and begging.

Draco certainly got a kick out of it. However, it wasn't enough to reverse his decision: his father was to never step a toe into his house. He had even banned Aiden, Caelum, and Nysa from going to his mother's home if Lucius was there. Despite not being pro-Lucius, Hermione thought his approach to be excessive. However, she knew when to argue and when Draco's mind could be swayed. Now was _not_ the time. She only wished that their children didn't have to be caught up in this mess.

"You guys looking forward to boarding the train?" Victoire asked. She was back at the house again performing babysitting duties while her Uncle Draco and Aunt Hermione were at a benefit fundraiser. Aiden and Caelum (with a bit of arm-twisting) were helping her get dinner ready.

"More than you know," Caelum answered her. "The tension in this house has been brutal."

"Oh, yeah," Victoire frowned. "Your mum told me that it hasn't been easy with Lucius back."

"Not to mention having our grandmother here, period," Aiden piled on. "Don't get me wrong. I love her to pieces, but do you know what it's like living with a high society pureblood woman? If she tells me to straighten my back any more I won't be able to bend it!"

"And she's been giving us more lessons since she's here," Caelum added which prompted a puzzled expression from Victoire.

"Lessons? What is she teaching you?"

 _Curses to cast on families that last through generations this week…_

"Etiquette," Aiden swooped in with the save. "Posture stuff, tableware, you know…"

Victoire eyed them both before chuckling to herself and using her wand to gather dishes from the kitchen to set the table.

"Right," she smiled knowingly. "Why don't you two grab Nysa for dinner? I can finish up here."

The boys nodded and went upstairs to their sister's room. Nysa had been playing, but that hadn't lasted too long. Toys were only fun to play with when you had someone to play with you.

"Hey, Nysa, dinner is ready," Aiden said once he and his brother reached her room. Nysa sighed.

"I want to play with Grandma Cissa."

"You can't," Aiden said. "She's in France with friends, remember?"

"Oh," Nysa replied with a frown. She stared out the window from where she could see her grandmother's house. Although she wasn't home, she could still see some sort of glow in one of the upper windows. "What about Grandpa Lu… Lu…" She sighed. "Grandpa Lu _shits_. Did he go with her?"

Caelum laughed. Despite being able to speak well most of the time, there was something about the elder Malfoy's name that his little sister just couldn't get.

"It's Lu _-shus_. And no, she left without him."

"Rightly so," Aiden added as an afterthought.

Nysa frowned even further and continued to stare out of the window. "Do you think grandpa's lonely by himself?"

Aiden snorted. "Cold-hearted people don't get lonely, Nysa. And stop calling him 'grandpa.' He's not our grandfather."

Nysa finally turned herself away from the window and tilted her head towards her older brother. "What do you mean? He's daddy's daddy, isn't he?"

"Technically, yes. But just because that's true it doesn't make Lucius family. He hates us. Mum too. Remember that."

"Aiden's right," Caelum told her with a shrug. "Even dad doesn't want to be around him, and that should tell you something. Now, come on," he smiled as he put a hand on her shoulder. "Dinner is waiting for us. And when we're done we'll ask Victoire if we can Floo Call grandma for you. You can't play with her, but you can at least talk to her."

Nysa's brothers left her room first and she followed after them. When they reached the bottom of the stairs they headed towards the kitchen where dinner was, but she stalled. She looked towards the back door where she could she her grandmother's house even clearer. With one look back at the moving heads of her brothers and cousin, Nysa quietly slipped out of the house through the back door and made her way along the path to the house on the opposite end of their massive yard. She wasn't supposed to walk this path alone. _Especially_ not at night. But she thought it would make it better if she ran the way and soon she was safely at her second favorite house.

Nysa didn't need a key to get in. Her grandma did some kind of spell to make it so that she and her brothers could come in whenever they wanted. She walked in and found the house bathed in darkness. No matter though. She knew this house just like her own and didn't need lights. She headed straight for the stairs and bent over as she walked to find the room with light under the door. When she found it she turned the doorknob and entered without knocking.

"Do you want to play with me?"

Lucius had been in the study peacefully reading. He had been enjoying the quiet. Well, sentenced to it was more like it. With his wife holding a grudge and his son beyond angered with him, he had no choice but to make the quiet his friend. And so, the sweet, yet high-pitched voice that had assaulted his ears had startled him enough to drop his book. Nysa ran over quickly and picked up the book.

"Do you want to play with me?" She asked again.

Lucius might as well had been petrified. He had seen this girl once since being released and he had only shaken her hand. And here she was looking for a playmate?

His eyes gravitated to a window to his right. It was pitch dark outside, the lights illuminating the pathway from the girl's home to his own barely making an impression. He looked back at her and his face set up in a frown.

"Did you walk all the way here by yourself?"

Nysa nodded. "Uh-huh,"

"Don't do that again," Lucius said sternly. "We are surrounded by the woods and who knows what dangerous creatures may be lurking in there. Understood?"

"Okay," she replied innocently. She stuffed her grandfather's book into his hands and asked, "Are you going to play with me or not?"

Lucius was floored. "I…" He cleared his throat and motioned to the book in his hand. "I was reading."

"Oh. Can I watch you read then?"

An absurd request, but if it would stop the awkward then he would give in. "Fine."

Nysa grinned happily and sat down at his feet. Lucius had to fight to keep his confusion at bay. Instead, he swallowed and found the page he had been on. Reading, however, was proving to be difficult while being watched by a little girl.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Lucius flicked his eyes over his book briefly before restoring them to their original position. "If you insist."

"Are you lonely here without Grandma Cissa?"

Lucius glanced at her again. It was unexpected, her question, much like her previous one, and very inquisitive to say the least. "I have spoken to her several times today," he said before turning to his book again. "So no, I don't miss her. Not really."

"That's good. Can I ask you another question?"

Lucius sighed. "Go on."

"Why do you hate my brothers and me?"

This time Lucius had to do more than peer at her over his book. Instead he lifted his head in pure surprise at how such a harsh question had come from such an innocent girl.

"Who told you that?"

"My brothers did," Nysa answered honestly. "And that I shouldn't call you 'grandpa' because you hate us and that doesn't make us family."

Lucius swallowed deeply. He hesitantly closed his book and set it on his lap so he could properly look at this child who was, undoubtedly, his granddaugher. Despite having some resemblance to her mudblood mother, that resemblance began and stopped at the young girl's curls. Her hair was blonde like her father's. Her eyes were grey like her father's. She had a delicate smile like him too, and an innocence about her that was, Lucius had to admit, quite endearing. This child was what he had expected his and Narcissa's daughter to look like had his wife not miscarried some three years after having Draco.

No, he didn't hate her, nor her brothers. He simply hated the union that had brought them into this world. There was a difference, but perhaps difficult for a child to realize it. However, what was more upsetting was that she shouldn't have had to worry over such things to begin with.

"I don't hate you," Lucius told her eventually. "Neither you nor your brothers."

"Or mummy?" Nysa added hopefully. Lucius struggled to keep his cringe internal.

"With your mother, it's...complicated. However, my feelings towards your mother have nothing to do with you."

"I hope you like her one day," Nysa told him as she rocked forward and back where she sat. "She's a really good mummy and she makes daddy _really_ happy."

Before Lucius could even fathom something to say in reply, voices could be heard outside. He immediately recognized her brothers and a third voice that must've belonged to that veela-child calling Nysa's name.

"You didn't tell them you were coming here, did you?"

Nysa guiltily looked towards the ground. "No."

"Next time ask for permission."

Nysa's face lit up at that and she nodded vigorously. "I will! Promise!" She grinned as she got up from the floor. She had turned on her heel to leave and was nearly gone, but she stopped at the door and swung back around. "Can I call you Grandpa Lu? I call Grandma 'Grandma Cissa' because her name is hard. Your name is hard too. So, can I?"

Lucius desperately wanted to say no. However, aside from the fact that the shouts for her were grating on his nerves, Nysa had somehow perfected wide eyes and a pouty mouth to make a man throw away his riches.

He knew he was going to regret this.

"Yes, but only when you and I are alone."

Nysa squealed in delight. "Okay! Bye bye, Grandpa Lu!"

The little girl finally left his study. After several passing seconds Lucius rose from his seat and walked over to the window. It was the perfect location to see the land that separated his house from his son's, the walkway that connected them, and Nysa being reunited with her brothers and babysitter and heading back home.

Grandpa Lu.

It made him shiver at the thought of it. It also, he hated to admit, made him smile.

* * *

 _September 1st, 2018_

If Lucius could fathom the future events of his life, none of them would have included a three and a half foot shadow.

So he had heard, Nysa had done as he had told her and asked for permission to see him. The very next day, as it turned out. Draco had quickly forbade it, but leave it to Lucius' blessed wife to intervene. And so, every day this past week for an hour or two before dinner either her mother, father, or a brother would walk her over to her grandparents' house. On the days that it was his son escorting her, Lucius could plainly see his disgruntled expression as he watched them walk along the path.. A stark contrast to the glee of his daughter. The only reason Draco agreed was because his mother had returned home. Lucius doubted very much that he would let Nysa visit if she wasn't there.

As it stood now, everyone was at King's Cross Station to send off the two eldest to Hogwarts. Fifth and Fourth Years, if Lucius recalled correctly. He took the opportunity of a quiet house to invite Roland, his cousin, to visit.

"I'm sorry that I haven't come to see you sooner," Roland apologized. "I travel far too much for my work."

"Understandable," Lucius nodded. "We do what we must. Tea?"

"Yes, thank you."

A house elf that was waiting patiently by poured the tea for them and disapparated from sight once Lucius had waved him off.

"How has it been since your return?" Roland questioned with a raised brow. Lucius tutted.

"Must you ask? It is one thing to be told of the changes that have happened over the course of twenty years, but to live it? It is...quite disconcerting."

"I can imagine," Roland nodded, his eyes glancing around the room they were in. "A subdue home compared to the Manor, yes, but lavish enough, I suppose."

"My son's choice," Lucius informed him. "His taste is rather immaculate."

"Not _so_ immaculate. We musn't forget who his choice was for a wife."

Lucius huffed quietly to himself. "I can hardly forget."

"Do you see the mudblood often?"

"I haven't seen her since the day of my release," Lucius admitted. "None of them." He paused to take a sip of his tea. It was a bit too hot for his liking, but he drank it just the same.

Roland shook his head at the news as he drank from his own cup. "While no care is given to the mudblood, and the adoptee to a certain extent, at the very least Draco should make his presence known. You're his father for Merlin's sake."

"Oh, I think he cares very little about that," Lucius mildy frowned. Although their one-sided screaming match had been two weeks ago, his son's voice was still ringing in his ears. "However, there is at least one consolation prize," he smiled. "Nysa, my granddaughter. She's taken a liking to me. Haven't a single clue why," he added as an afterthought.

Roland, too, smiled a bit. "Daughters, grands included, always favor the males in their lives. How is she? What is she like?"

"Exceptionally bright for a child who's yet to be seven. Inquisitive. Eager to learn. A tad reckless, but proper etiquette and training will correct that over time."

"Hmm, a dead ringer for Gryffindor, I'm afraid," Roland sighed. Lucius had never thought about it before, but yes, he supposed he could see the traits he had just described belonging to the House of Gryffindor. Merlin forbid she make the second Malfoy to wind up in that House.

"Lucius," Roland said earnestly. He had set his cup of tea down and leaned forward in his chair. "Now that you have been set free, perhaps you will be able to do what you were unable to behind Azkaban's walls."

Lucius' fine, blond brow rose with his cousin's words and he set his tea aside as well. "And that is..?"

"You recall that contract your son had me and several others to sign?"

The contract. No, Lucius couldn't have forgotten that. It had angered everyone and he had been sent a record-breaking number of owls with letters displaying their discontent. And while he, too, had been put off by what Draco had done and had written Narcissa about it, only a fool would deny such a prideful moment where magic was concerned. An Unbreakable Vow in a contract? While magical contracts were binding on their own, what his son had done had been sheer genius.

"I do," Lucius replied. "What of it?"

"What do you intend on doing about it?"

There went Lucius' brow again. " _Do_ about it?"

"Of course!" Roland insisted. "Set us all free of that bloody deathtrap."

"As I was informed, it wasn't meant to kill."

"Does it matter?"

"Perhaps not." Lucius stroked his chin once and let his eyes roam over his cousin's face and body posture. The man looked tense. Persistent as well. Lucius could only imagine what his prolonged silence was doing to the man. "Say that I do something about it as you suggest, what would your intentions be once it was gone?"

"Rectifying the situation, of course," Roland replied nonchalantly.

"Surely you don't mean a _permanent_ method of rectification, do you?"

A dreamy expression crossed Roland's features as he let slip a happy sigh. "I haven't decided yet."

"I see," Lucius mused. He leaned back in his chair and pressed the bottoms of his palms together, his forefingers coming to a point as he said, "Has it escaped your knowledge that since Draco was the one to create the contract that only _he_ can amend it?"

"He won't do that," Roland grumbled. "You have to persuade him to."

"I can do many things, but swaying my son's mind to or from anything is not one of them. And even if I could, I wouldn't."

"What?" Roland's jaw dropped. "Why not? Lucius, she doesn't belong with us, and you know it."

"Of course I know it. Seeing her makes my skin crawl and knowing that decades upon decades of Malfoy and pureblood tradition has gone out the window makes me ill. However," Lucius paused, "there is the fact that she is still a Malfoy. Revered by many, cherished by my wife and grandchildren and, most importantly…it would destroy my son."

Roland huffed. "He would get over it."

"I assure you that he wouldn't," Lucius calmly argued. "That boy can hold a grudge longer than anyone I know. So can my wife," he added with a chuckle. When his laughter died he sighed and reached for his tea that he had previously set down. "I live to protect my family, Roland. Always have. Know then that every action I take is to continue on that trajectory."

Roland snorted loudly. "Protecting the mudblood then, are you? She _is_ family after all."

"Yes," he admitted. "As much as it pains me to say, and I will do so for my son's sake. And...his family's as well."

"You disappoint me, Lucius," Roland grumbled mercilessly.

Lucius would have shrugged if his upbringing had allowed such a thing. Instead he sipped his tea before replying, "Is that supposed to hurt me? My actions have a habit of leaving a trail of disappointment. One more trail won't make a difference."

* * *

 **Author's note:** Flashbacks of my growing up with my grandma kind of hit me when Lucius watches Nysa travel between houses. My grandma used to watch me as I left her apartment and to the elevator, and then she would walk to her window and wait for me to walk far enough down the street until she couldn't see me anymore. I'd always stop at a certain point and wave even though she was on the 6th floor and I couldn't see her. I knew she could see me, though. I do miss her :(.

BUT enough about me lol. Obviously the story hasn't ended yet lol. Possibly on 64, _maybe...65._ Who knows how this brain of mine works *happy sigh*. No, Lucius isn't about to do a complete 180 (I said that to a couple people in a reply to their reviews). But I'd like to think that he did get at least _a little_ bit hurt with what Draco said. That's what prompted the chapter title. Still cold, aloof, and stubborn, albeit _slightly_ amendable. I'd also like to point out the similar characteristics between him and Narcissa regarding Hermione. Of course she loves her now, but in the beginning she had her reservations about Draco not being with a pureblood witch, but she sucked it up for Draco's sake. Again, when Hermione was in her depressive state when she first got cursed, Narcissa was mad at her/stopped her from her continuous sleeping draught mixtures because she didn't want her to die and cause Draco pain. Everything they do is for Draco's/their family's sake. It may not always be right, definitely questionable, straight up horrible at times, but it's there.

-WP

 **Replies to guests**

 **Guest1:** "Their confrontation..." Thank you! I worked so hard on that scene and I'm glad that it panned out well. Draco definitely needed to get that anger out and Lucius was, well, himself haha. And leave it to Hermione to be classy ;)

 **Tia:** Lucius is one tough nut to crack. And you're right, he hasn't changed in terms of personality/viewpoints, but he's not about to go round up Deatheaters and wreak havoc with the crew again. That's what got him out, and pretty much Harry's point while he was on the fence. The family, namely Draco, does have a rough ride to deal with.

 **Guest2:** "Can't wait for more.." Thanks! I hope that you liked this chapter as well :)


	64. Moments

_December 19th, 2018_

"And you wanted more children," Ron shook his head. Lavender laughed.

They had a full house this evening and it wasn't even going to be for one day. No, they were playing host to the Malfoy children through Saturday while their parents were on vacation. Well, "sent away" was more like it. Narcissa had determined that Draco and Hermione needed a break and a chance to celebrate their upcoming anniversary in peace and so she had booked their favorite hotel in Chamonix, France for four days. Ron's name had come up in the babysitting rotation pool, and so he had five kids under his watch. Regardless, it was still a better scenario than Harry when he had three of his own.

"That's not fair!" Nysa yelled.

"Yes, it is!" Hugo argued. "The rules say that I can play a smoking stump card if an ice card is facing up."

"But it was on top of a fireplace and…Rose? What was that rule again?"

"Any ice card on a fire card will _melt_ it, making it a water card,, and no fire-related card can be placed on a water card," Rose answered smartly. Hugo groaned and grabbed his card back.

"I hate this game," Hugo grumbled. Rose laughed and ruffled her brother's hair.

"Don't be grumpy."

That didn't stop him from continuously mumbling under his breath as he tried to figure out what card he could play next. Ron chuckled to himself and continued to watch from where he sat, the kitchen counter which gave a perfect view of the living room where the game was being played. Lavender had gone to spectate from up close, Rose and Caelum were playing referee and scorekeeper, while Aiden had just come into the kitchen and sat down next him.

"Hey, Uncle Ron, can I ask your opinion on something?"

"Yeah, sure. What is it?"

"Well, it's, um….about a girl," Aiden replied bashfully. "I'd ask dad, but he'll only end up mentioning it to mum and I don't want her to get too excited."

"Too excited?" Ron repeated. His curiosity was extremely piqued now and he gently urged him. "Who's the girl?"

"My friend Anna," he admitted. "Mum got close to hers again after they moved back to England, as you know. I just don't want her to get her hopes up."

"Hers? You mean mine," Ron laughed. "Having your dad in close proximity to Anna's mum is the best thing that could ever happen. I can just imagine the possibilities Wrackspurts and all… Tell me, though. What's the problem exactly?"

"Because Anna's my friend. My _best_ friend since my first day of classes at Hogwarts. I've been running through all the scenarios of how terribly this could end if I tell her I like her and they're bloody nightmares. Sorry," Aiden added for the swear. "I just don't want to lose her as a friend."

"I've got to admit that's a tough decision," Ron told him. "Reminds me of myself. I liked a friend of mine once. Loved her, actually."

"Did you tell her that?"

"I did. We dated for a while too, but it didn't work out."

"You see? That's what I don't want," Aiden grumbled miserably. "We go out, it ends up awful, and we stop being friends."

"I didn't say that we stopped being friends," Ron said happily. "We were, and still are, very good friends even with what happened between us."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he grinned broadly. "In the end she married your dad and made me godfather to all of her kids."

Aiden's mouth dropped. "Oh," he slowly replied, his cheeks reddening with complete embarrassment. "Well, that's incredibly awkward."

Ron laughed. "I'm surprised you didn't already know that. You've read history books on us."

"Yeah, well, they didn't go very deep into your love life lives," he anxiously replied as his face took on a deeper shade of red than it already was. "Now I _have_ know how you dealt with that."

"It wasn't easy at first, I can tell you that. But, once your best friend _always_ your best friend. Ultimately, what she wanted mattered more, and I'm not the least bit bitter about it."

Aiden sighed and hung his head down. "You're telling me to go for it no matter what, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am. If it works, then great. If not, at least you don't have to wonder 'what if.' Don't be scared, alright?"

"Okay."

* * *

 _February 23rd, 2019_

Draco was a proud father, uncle, and godfather all in one as he sat in the stands with other parents and professors. It was favoritism at its finest that he, Hermione, Nysa, his mother, and the rest of the precious lot were sitting by Headmistress McGonagall.

"I _hate_ this," Hermione whimpered as she watched the Quidditch match. Draco chuckled as he leaned into his wife.

"What? The violence or the fact that your boys are on opposing teams?"

As Hermione watched Aiden expertly dodge a bludger she shivered. "Both."

Draco laughed and took her hand before focusing his attention on the Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch match. This was the first year that his sons were both on teams. Although it wasn't the first time playing against each other it was still beyond exciting.

Caleum played Seeker like Draco had, albeit for Gryffindor. Aiden was a terrifyingly good Chaser for Slytherin with Giana watching his back as a Beater and knocking that bludger into any Gryffindor she could. Rose was a Keeper like her father had been and James was a Chaser on the Gryffindor side. Harry liked to joke that Headmistress McGonagall would have a coronary one day with so many of her favorite students' children playing for her former House's team. Although a poor joke in hindsight, the now elderly woman gained a youthful delight when it was Quidditch season. It was the only reason she hadn't retired yet.

" _Caelum Malfoy sees the golden snitch!"_

Draco was on his feet faster than anyone could blink and he ignored shouts from behind him to sit. He watched as far as his eyes allowed as Caelum flew into the air and became a tiny speck, the Slytherin Seeker close on his tail. An agonizing fifteen or so seconds passed before a blur of red and gold and green and silver dived from the sky towards the ground with arms outstretched.

"I can't look!" Hermione screeched from beside him.

Normally, Draco would say that she was exaggerating, but even his heart was racing less from a positive adrenaline rush and more from fear.

"Pull up. Pull up," Draco was chanting under his breath as his son and the Slytherin Seeker kept flying straight towards the ground. "Pull up!" He shouted out loud this time. He wasn't the only person standing now and they all watched with wide eyes the closer to the grassy terrain the pair got. Even players on both sides stalled to see the outcome.

"PULL UP!" Draco shouted again. He wasn't sure if Caelum had heard him or if it had been his plan to pull up right then, but he did. The Slytherin Seeker wasn't so lucky and would _definitely_ need some medical attention. In the meantime, Caelum slowed to a halt and raised his hand in the air as the golden snitch fluttered in his hand.

" _And after that_ _ **terrifying**_ _nosedive, Caelum Malfoy catches the golden snitch for 150 points! Gryffindor beats Slytherin 550 to 375!"_

Draco sat down with a heavy slump, a sigh, and a huge smile on his face. Hermione had uncovered her eyes once the announcer had given Caelum's fate and she immediately smacked Harry on the arm.

"You are _never_ to tell the kids the story of your first Quidditch match _ever_ again."

* * *

"You should've been there, Lucius," Narcissa rattled on in a delightful tone. She and the remainder of her family hadn't long returned from Hogwarts. Granted, the game had been over ages ago, but everyone had taken the children and indulged in a massive dinner that nearly took up the entire restaurant in Hogsmeade. "While Quidditch is my least favorite activity to entertain, I must admit that it was exciting."

"Quidditch is _always_ exciting, Cissa," Lucius replied with a smile. He paused for a moment before asking, "Do you have it?"

"Yes." Narcissa went over to her handbag and stuck both of her arms in it. It always made Lucius cringe when he saw her do it, but he had to admit that the charm was quite handy. He watched from where he sat on the edge of their bed as she pulled out a pensieve. An oval bowl filled with clear liquid, other charms had to have been put on it to keep what was inside from spilling, not to mention make it lightweight.

"Hermione, the darling that she is, didn't ask me what I wanted it for," Narcissa explained to her husband. "But she asked Headmistress McGonnagall for it either way. It will have to be returned in the morning, however," she added.

Lucius nodded as he rose from the bed. "Perfectly fine. How long had it been?"

"Four hours. My memories may or may not reflect that, though."

"I'm sure your memories will be sufficient."

Lucius sat on a chair with the pensieve in front of him as Narcissa used her wand to extract a rather long strand of shimmering thread. When finished she dragged it over to the pensieve and let it fall in. The images that swirled were of the Hogwarts grounds and blended colors of red and gold and green and silver.

"You should have just come," Narcissa said softly as she dressed for bed. Lucius gruffly chuckled and shook his head.

"Aside from the fact that Draco has made it perfectly clear he would rather me not around, I am quite sure others echo his sentiment. I can take it from our son. I don't need to hear it from it everyone else."

Narcissa sighed. "If that's what you want. I'll give you some privacy to view the match."

Lucius waited until his wife left before plunging his head into the pensieve. He felt his whole body disappear into a world of memories that weren't his own and he found himself sitting in the crowd. He had heard that both of his grandsons were on their respective House teams. His eyes locked onto Caelum immediately as Gryffindor Seeker. Although not the correct House, this memory could have very easily been his own for Caelum looked _so much_ like Draco. He flew like him too, albeit better. He found himself cheering in a self-composed manner that only he could perform, although by the end he was standing just as his son had. Lucius was sure that no harm had come to Caelum this evening (Narcissa would've surely told him), but it still hadn't erased his panic. All he could think was, " _Why won't you pull up?"_ In the end, Caelum did, and he raised the snitch to the crowd.

After the score was announced the memory was over. Lucius was pushed out of the pensieve and he was sitting upright in his seat. He sighed, smiled, and said to himself, "Well done."

* * *

 _June 15th, 2019_

Draco sat with a wide grin on his face as he watched Blaise pace up and down. Blaise wasn't one to get flustered. In fact, he took great pride in watching _others_ get antsy. Now that it was his turn Draco was having the time of his life.

"Blaise, Giana's sixteen," Draco reasoned. "She was bound to go on a date sooner rather than later."

Blaise snorted and scowled at him. "Easy for you to say. Nysa's only seven. You've still got about a decade before you have to deal with this atrocity."

"And that's why you Floo Called me to help, and why I Flooed Called someone else to keep us level-headed."

Blaise was about to ask who when the door to the den opened. Lydia was all smiles as she politely intruded on the men and closed the door after her.

"Oh, come on," Blaise chuckled. "She's the _last_ person you should call 'level-headed.'"

"Excuse me, Mr. Zabini, but do you want to find your precious bits floating down the English Channel?" Lydia questioned with a brow raised. Blaise shook his head and smiled.

"My point proven."

"Fine, she's level-headed with other people, just not with us," Draco amended with a grin.

"Only because you two can induce a headache," Lydia laughed. "Where's Giana?"

"With her mother putting on 'finishing touches,'" Blaise grimaced. Soon after saying that his house elf, Nimble, appeared in the room.

"Master Zabini, Mr. Zachary MacMillan is here to see Miss Giana."

"Sweet Merlin," he groaned. Draco chuckled and stood.

"Thank you, Nimble. Can you let Giana and Liliana know in about ten minutes?"

Nimble bowed. "Of course."

"Alright," Blaise said with a resigned grunt after Nimble was gone. "Let's get this trainwreck over with."

"Fine. And speaking of trainwrecks, try not to go too off the rails, will you? Hermione's friends with the kid's father."

"And that's his _only_ saving grace."

Lydia shook her head in utter amusement and took the lead in leaving the room and heading to the main receiving area of the house. On first glance Zachary seemed like a pleasant boy. Tall, well-dressed, and contentedly looking at photographs that hung on the walls. Regardless of all that, he still seemed nervous.

"You must be Zachary," Lydia greeted.

"And you must be Mrs. Zabini," Zachary smiled as he put out his hand. "A pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise, but I'm actually Giana's aunt," she replied as she shook his hand. "Giana's upstairs with her mother and should be down any moment. This," she gestured to Draco, "is-"

"Mr. Malfoy," Zachary told a bit hesitantly. "My, uh, my dad told me stories about you."

"Hmm," Draco mused with a grin. "All bad ones, I'm sure."

Zachary have a nervous chuckle before finally locking eyes onto Blaise. "Giana's father?"

"Could I possibly be anyone else?" Blaise sneered like a predator. Lydia elbowed him in the ribs before she continued being the gracious host.

"So, where are you planning on taking Giana tonight?"

Zachary swallowed deeply before replying, "I have tickets for a show that I thought she'd like. It's in Edinburgh."

"Edinburgh?" Blaise repeated. "That requires apparation. You have an apparating license, boy?"

"Y-yes?"

"Is that a question?" Blaise snapped with a narrowing of his eyes. "Are you not _sure?_ "

"Blaise, don't be mean," Draco playfully admonished. "We agreed to be polite. At first…"

"Please ignore them, Zachary," Lydia smiled comfortingly. "They're just being overprotective."

"Oh, that's fine," he nervously chuckled. "My dad is the same with my sister."

"All fathers are with their daughters," Lydia smiled. "However, there _is_ something that I should probably point out. Giana's father and uncle won't stop at hexing you to a million pieces if you do anything inappropriate to or _with_ their pride and joy. Your father has told you stories of Giana's Uncle Draco, but certainly you've read about him in the history books as well?"

Zachary blanched as he glanced at Draco. "Yes."

"Right, well, he's been quite the upstanding citizen for _years._ I'd suggest not doing anything to make him break that streak, okay?"

"Yes. Of course. Absolutely," he stammered. Lydia grinned.

"Good. And while I myself have no written history to speak of, my maiden name was Rosier. Keep that in mind, will you?"

If possible, Zachary might have paled further. Luckily for his sake Liliana and Giana had finally come to his rescue. Neither one was oblivious to how uncomfortable the boy looked and Giana profusely apologized as she pulled him along and out of the house.

Liliana watched her daughter leave and sighed, turning to Blaise and the others with her hands on her hips. "She really likes him, you know."

"I know that," Blaise huffed lightly before frowning as he crossed his arms. "I just _really_ wish she didn't."

Liliana laughed and moved to hug him around the waist. Ever grumpy, moody, and paranoid when it came to his children, she couldn't help but find him adorable.

* * *

 _September 4th, 2019_

Harry was all smiles as he read Lily's letter out loud. Hermione and Ron were just as happy to know that she had been sorted into Gryffindor as they has been. The three of them were out in the backyard of the Potter residence, laying on the grass, and enjoying the cool breeze as they received the news.

"That's another kid down," Harry said. "Hugo's up next."

"Don't remind me," Ron groaned and chuckled. "Lavender's slowly slipping into an 'I'm getting old' phase."

"I'm right there with her," Hermione said. "I'm turning forty in two weeks _and_ I found a grey hair this morning."

Ron laughed. "Not to mention Aiden's going to be the first of all the kids to turn seventeen next year. Legal age. That must really throw you for a loop."

"You know, you're a good friend, Ron. Don't make me have to kill you."

"You'd better listen to her," Harry grinned. "I'd miss you if you were dead."

"Eh, death isn't too scary," Ron commented with a cheeky expression. "We were nearly taken out year by year. I'm kind of immune to death threats at this point."

"That's a pretty fair assessment," Harry nodded. "Now we're all here talking about our teenage kids."

"Speak for yourself," Hermione gently kicked at Harry's foot. "Nysa's knocking on eight years old."

"Hey, speaking of Nysa, how's Draco holding up?" Ron asked. Hermione sighed and rolled onto her stomach so that she could sit up and look at her friends.

"A little less crazy since Narcissa went with them. He's swears that his father did something to make Nysa like him."

"As much as I'd like to believe that, ole Lucius seemed quite content to keep his distance from your kids," Ron pointed out. Hermione nodded and began plucking random blades of grass.

"I don't know what it is, and I'm not going to give myself a migraine trying to figure it out. Draco will continue to let Nysa around him so long as his mother is in close proximity and there's no evidence of Lucius 'tainting' her."

"And Aiden and Caelum have sworn him off, yeah?" Harry questioned.

"Since day one," Hermione confirmed. "Those boys have always taken everything Draco said to the letter. Nysa, well, she's the rebellious one."

"I wonder where she got that from?" Harry smiled. Hermione huffed and turned up her nose.

"I was a saint, thank you!"

"Oh _sure_ ," Ron exaggerated. "Like you didn't set Snape's cloak on fire."

"And there's the Polyjuice," Harry piled on. "And the bit about Rita Skeeter, no?"

"Harry, you can't forget how she hexed the sign-up parchment for Dumbledore's Army. I mean, to have the word 'Sneak' appear on your face?"

"All for a good cause, need I remind you," Hermione countered.

Ron shrugged, still a goofy expression on his face as he finally rolled over like she had so he could look at her.

"Regardless, you've got to admit it was pretty ballsy of you. Couple that with Draco's traits and boom, Nysa."

Hermione rolled her eyes while Harry continued to lay on the ground, contemplative. She noticed and grabbed a few bits of grass and let them fall into his face.

"What are you thinking about?"

Harry pursed his lips for a moment before looking at her from an awkward periphery. "Just wondering what 'good cause' did Nysa approach Lucius for in the first place."

Hermione bit her lip. "Good question. I guess I'll have to ask her that one day."

* * *

 **Author's note:** I _really_ loved Ron's talk with Aiden. I don't think I could've had Aiden speak with anyone _but_ Ron for that kind of conversation and it worked well :). And now, the happy, but also sad news. The next chapter will be the last and I'm hoping to get it out before the month is over. This little one-shot turned into something so huge and I'm happy for it and for all of you for reading it.

-WP

Replies to Guests:

 **A:** Lol, that's a lot to read over again, but at least it'll be complete! Thanks so much for reading :)

 **Guest:** Hahahaha, they are, aren't they? I just love Nysa, period lol.

 **Kate:** There will be more! The final chapter will start off with one actually :)

 **Guest:** Hi Chantael! I'm so glad that those moments managed to brighten you up! There'll be at least one or two more scenes with them before it ends, so yey! :). Keep those spirits up!


	65. Thank You

_July 18th, 2020_

"Grandpa!" Nysa stomped her foot. "You promised me that you'd dance."

"Don't stomp," Lucius admonished. "Furthermore, I have no recollection of such a promise."

" _Please?_ "

"No begging either," he added. "It's unbecoming of a Malfoy."

Nysa was ready to roll her eyes, but she knew that would only get another scolding. Instead, she appealed to the Slytherin in him.

"How about a deal?"

Lucius' brows rose high into his hairline. Regardless, his lips morphed into a smirk and he inclined his head. "Your conditions?"

"I'll do an extra hour of etiquette lessons with Grandma Cissa if you dance one song with me."

"While that would please me, that is more of a deal for your grandmother rather than myself."

Nysa frowned. "What do you want then?"

 _To stop frowning for starters,_ Lucius thought to himself. However, he sighed and outstretched his hand. "Two hours of lessons."

"For that I need an extra dance," Nysa said without a moment's pause.

As Lucius looked down at his granddaughter he couldn't help himself. He laughed. It had attracted the eyes of a few onlookers, but he had been getting stared at all evening despite the festive affair.

"A clever counter proposal," Lucius replied with a nod. "Very good. Come along then."

Nysa grabbed his hand and all but ran out into the dancefloor with him. The onlookers magnified in number and included her brothers.

"Leave it to our sister to be the one to get Lucius to dance," Caelum shook his head.

"That's a woman for you," Aiden sighed as he sipped his drink. "A mini one or not. They can manipulate a man no matter what."

"Oh, so that's what Anna does to you?" Caelum smirked. "Good to know."

Aiden didn't even deny it. His eyes caught sight of his girlfriend across the room in a deep conversation with Rose and Giana. As he briefly glanced at the latter witch, he maliciously smiled.

"And what Giana does to you, girlfriend or not."

Caelum choked on his drink. After patting his own chest he turned to his brother with wide eyes. " _Excuse me?_ "

Aiden laughed as he finished his glass and placed it on a floating tray. "You can tell her that you like her, you know. She's not going to bite."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Caelum replied defensively. "She's my friend just as much as she is yours. A friend with a perfect smile, adorable laugh, beautiful face and….a boyfriend."

Aiden regarded his brother as he discreetly tried to look at Giana without making it weird. He let him do this for countless seconds before saying,

"Giana and Zachary broke things off last week."

Caelum whipped his head around fast enough to pull a muscle. "They what?" He asked, massaging his neck in obvious pain.

"You heard what I said," Aiden chuckled. "They didn't want to advertise it so they could break it to their folks gently."

"Oh, right." Caelum paused for a moment before tentatively speaking again. "So, um, h-how long should I wait? A week? Two? _Please_ , don't say a month."

"Calm down before you have a heart attack," Aiden advised, a wide grin stretching his face. "How about you just ask her for a dance? It's a wedding. She's not going to say no."

Caelum took a deep breath before nodding and following him towards the most nerve-racking experience he could possibly think of. Although, the joy in the air did help ease some of the stress. It was Teddy and Victoire's wedding. Teddy had proposed last December with his father's help. What had been orchestrated as an anniversary party for his mum and dad had actually been a surprise engagement party instead. Thank Merlin Victoire had said yes or else that would've been ridiculously embarrassing. Although, as Caelum gave a passing glance at the happy couple, he doubted it would've been a denied proposal. They loved each other like his parents did with one another. Granted, from what he could see of his father right now, he seemed like he wanted to off himself.

"You should come by sanctuary one day," Luna suggested with a beaming expression. "Anna brings Aiden by all the time. He loves it."

 _He's her boyfriend. He's **required** to go_ , Draco thought to himself. He then wondered how bad it would look if he jammed a fork in his eye. He sighed knowing that he would ruin the wedding this way and instead tried to act as interested as possible in whatever a Humming Hovel Bird was while looking discreetly looking for Hermione. She had gone to the restroom ages ago while Luna filled her seat. Eventually he did find her and he nonverbally pleaded with her to come back. Hermione mouthed "five more minutes." He'd die by then.

"What's so funny, dear?" Narcissa asked. Hermione was laughing at Draco's disgruntled expression. She hadn't seen him this childish in years.

"He's with our friend Luna," Ginny answered for her, a smile also playing on her lips. "Your son is probably losing his mind right about now."

Narcissa furrowed her perfectly done eyebrows as she looked over at her son. "Why? What's wrong with her?"

"Luna's...eccentric," Hermione said. "Not many people can handle her brand of personality. It's refreshing, honestly."

"Are you sure?" Narcissa questioned. "Draco looks on the brink of murder."

Ginny laughed. "We're sure. Besides, it looks like he's going to be rescued."

By "rescued," Ginny meant that the happy bride had walked up to Draco's table with her hands behind her back and a wide grin on her face.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Scamander, but if I may?" Victoire said politely as she approached the pair. Luna smiled brightly and nodded before the bride addressed Draco. "I'd like my dance now, please."

Draco grinned from ear to ear, stood, and gave a gentlemanly bow. "I thought you'd never ask."

Victoire gave her his hand and Draco led her away from the tables and to the dancefloor where they began their graceful steps.

"Do you feel better now?" Victoire asked. Draco cocked his head back and laughed.

"Did I look that miserable?"

"Oh no, you looked great. A smile so wide it was bound to fall off your face."

Draco chuckled. "Nice description."

"I thought you might like that," she replied proudly. She sighed then, taking a moment to stare at her surroundings as they slowly danced their way around the room.

A few couples were on the floor as well. Ron and Lavender. Her parents and grandparents. Aiden and Anna. Giana and a very bashful Caelum. Raphael with Lily who was quite smitten with the soon-to-be Fourth Year boy two years older than herself. Nysa had just finished dancing with Lucius and she had turned her sights on Lucas, Lydia and Uriel's son who was the same age as her. She once told Victoire that she thought Lucas was sweet. Victoire grinned at that and took a deep breath.

"What are you thinking about?" Draco asked. His question broke her out of her contemplation and she turned her attention to him.

"The kids," she said, motioning her head. "I used to babysit them and, well...they're not kids anymore."

"Neither are you or Teddy," Draco pointed out. He gazed at her fondly before momentarily breaking his hand-holding to push a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "You both just got married and I still remember chasing you around my house playing Wizards and Dragons."

Victoire's face lit up at the memory and she nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! I remember that. Merlin, we ran you ragged."

"I was sore for days, thanks," Draco jested. "But it was worth it. You'd be amazed at the things you do for kids."

"I'm not totally unfamiliar," she reminded, gesturing to the children she so often had babysat. She stalled briefly, looking down for a moment before adding, "I'll be familiar again soon enough. Sometime during the spring according to my Healer…"

Draco stopped their dance automatically, but Victoire urged them on so as not to draw attention. Although his body was moving, Draco's face was as stiff as a statue before it morphed into one of full on recognition.

"Are you telling me that you and Teddy…?"

"I haven't told Teddy yet. Or anyone actually," Victoire added with an anxious laugh. "I found out not more than a week ago, and with the wedding and everything it was kind of a lot."

"I'll say!" Draco choked. "Victoire… You're going to be a mum."

"I know, and I'm absolutely terrified. Babies are tiny, wriggling, little things that-"

"Cry all day and night and drool all over you-"

"Uncle Draco," Victoire frowned. "You're not selling the idea very well."

"I wasn't finished yet," Draco kindly informed before giving her a gentle twirl. Once she was back in his arms he continued. "You lose every bit of sleep you could possibly get, _but_ , you'll realize that it's worth it when they smile at you. Or when they give their first laugh. Or when they hold onto your fingers with a killer grip. No first-time parent ever knows what they're doing, but you figure it out and the kid turns out fine."

Victoire's face softened at that and she followed Draco's far-off gaze to another part of the dancefloor where Aiden and Caelum were holding onto Nysa's hands and dancing with her. Victoire had to agree that at seventeen, sixteen, and eight, her uncle's children had certainly grown (and were still growing) up well. She knew how proud of them he was. Hermione too. And Narcissa, naturally. Of Lucius, she didn't know, although it was clear that he favored Nysa like she was a princess. He rarely ever let her out of his sight. Even now he watched her from a distance.

"Must they swing her like that?" Lucius berated more to himself than for anyone else's benefit.

Hermione had been passing by and she slowed her movements to try to catch what her father-in-law was kicking up a fuss for. She scanned the crowd for a moment and then felt her lips curl up when she spotted the scene. Nysa was with her brothers and they were lifting her by the hands and gently swinging her back and forth like a swingset.

"They're not going to drop her, you know," Hermione commented. "They've been doing that with her since she was three."

"Never say never," Lucius promptly replied. "Nearly eighteen years in the Malfoy family and you would think you had learned a thing or two about preparedness."

Hermione stood in disbelief. She could have very well kept walking along, but she simply couldn't resist. "I'm surprised you actually know how long Draco and I have been married."

Lucius side-glanced at her before diverting his gaze to its original occupation."Unfortunately, it's something that I cannot forget."

"Oh, of course," Hermione snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. "It was such a _travesty_ after all. The date _must_ be engraved in your memory."

"While that is also the case, it's not the reason," Lucius admitted. He took a glass of floating champagne and drank half before, seemingly reluctantly, adding, "You will lose your mind in Azkaban unless you do something constructive. As such, I have developed an unhealthy obsession with dates and details."

"Have you?" Hermione said with a tilted head. Now her curiosity was piqued. She fully turned to him, deciding to let her arms fall to the sides, and then challenged him. "Humor me. What dates and details do you remember offhand?"

Lucius' side-glance was back. Nothing could ever properly describe how her request irked him. It was less that she was testing him, but more for the fact that it called for him to rise to the occasion (whether he wanted to or not). He sighed, finished off his champagne, and fixed his attention on his grandchildren before he began rattling off dates and details.

"You and Draco were married on Christmas day, 2002. Draco was the highlight of speculation when you were cursed circa early January, 2003. My wife handed over the Manor to you in March of that same year. Aiden was adopted five months later in early August shortly after my wife switched homes. Caelum was born on Christmas Eve shortly before 1:00 am. He performed his first bit of accidental magic when he was seven, the 11th of October 2011, the same day Draco was visiting me. Nysa was born the following month, on the 8th, early in the morning. Aiden was sorted into Slytherin in 2014, to Draco's delight, and Caelum to Gryffindor the following year, the bet for which he lost."

Hermione stood rooted to the spot unsure of what to say or do. When she had encouraged Lucius to tell her of what he remembered, she had expected a detail or two, not an entire library worth of information. It amazed her really. It astounded her so much that she found herself saying in a near whisper,

"You've been keeping track of us."

Her words weren't whispered low enough. Lucius had heard her and he seemed determined now more than ever not to look in her direction. He swallowed, attempting to drink more champagne, but embarrassingly realizing that it was gone.

"I've been keeping track of Draco," Lucius clarified. "Nothing more."

"Right..."

Lucius could sense that his daughter-in-law wanted to say more, but he was glad that she refrained and eventually walked away. It didn't stop her from staring at him for the remainder of the night with an expression that led him to believe she was in deep thought about something regarding him. He did his best to ignore her. By the time the wedding was over it was just after midnight and Narcissa had tired herself out enough to fall asleep almost instantly when she hit the bed. While Lucius was tired also, there was something that he had to do before he succumbed to sleep.

As he sat on the edge of the bed next to one of the night tables, Lucius opened the bottom drawer and took out his journal. He let his hand glide over the expensive leather and he suddenly wondered just how many of these he had stashed away within the house. He had spent years writing in journals. It was one of the few ways he had to keep himself sane and, in a way, a method of having someone to talk to when there was no one present.

And so, Lucius retrieved a self-inking quill and turned the pages of his journal, slowing down on some and briefly reading its contents. He perused dates and details that he hadn't mentioned to Hermione. Like the day Nysa asked to call him "Grandpa Lu." The date of every letter sent to Draco while he was in Azkaban that he never got a response to. The dismal day that Draco had yelled at him, Lucius' full understanding of just how much his son hated him.

With a sigh, Lucius drew his quill towards a blank page and wrote down today's date. Underneath it he wrote one thing,

 _Conversation with son's wife did not end badly._

* * *

 _April 18th, 2021_

"Are you going to go?" Uriel asked. Draco set down the invitation on the coffee table and leaned back onto the couch.

"I don't have a choice," Draco chuckled. "While I have no desire to see any of the faces of people who treated me like a ghost, Hermione will want to go."

"Of course she would," Uriel nodded. He reached over for the invitation and read it out loud. " _'Dear Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, You are hereby invited to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on Saturday, December 18th, 2021 at 8:00 pm to a masquerade ball commemorating the twentieth anniversary of the school's reopening. As cohorts of the first students and graduating class of Hogwarts after the Second Wizarding War, it would be an honor if you could attend. Sincerely, Headmistress McGonagall.'_ "

Uriel shook his head in disbelief. "Holy hell, McGonagall's still Headmistress? Is she ever planning to retire?"

Draco laughed and shrugged as he called for Frizzle and politely asked him to bring them some tea and something to eat. "Hermione and I think she's holding out for Nysa. You know, to see her get sorted and to play at least one year of Quidditch for her House."

"Talk about dedication," Uriel mused. "So, one year minimum then?"

"Two," Draco corrected. "She was born too late to go to Hogwarts next year with Lucas."

"Right, right. The ole age cutoff thing. At least she'll still have a few friends when she goes."

It was true. Hugo was finishing up his First Year, a proud Gryffindor like his mother and father, while Lily was ending her Second. Lucas, Uriel's son, would be going this September. And while Raphael and Albus would be in their final year by the time Nysa went, at least they could look out for her (and the others).

"Tea and pastries, as you requested," Frizzle announced happily. Draco thanked him and took a moment to analyze him before he was gone.

After nearly twenty years with them, Frizzle had barely aged a day unless one counted the few wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. With Nysa being the only child who needed looking after now, Frizzle had less things to do around the house (not that he'd ever had much). Hermione had taken to keeping his company with discussing books. She even allowed him to go to the orphanage from time to time and help her there.

"Oh, these look wonderful," Narcissa said from out of the blue. She had strolled into the living room and picked up one of the pastries between her fingers. "Frizzle has always been a wonderful chef."

"Mother," Draco breathed uneasily. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, darling, there's only so much Malfoy family history a woman can endure," his mother lazily waved before greeting Uriel. Draco choked.

"That's not the point," he berated. "You weren't supposed to leave her there with him. Not while discussing our very questionable heritage."

"Draco," Narcissa tutted sadly. "Nysa has been indulging in your father's presence for years now. I think that it's okay."

No, no, it wasn't okay. Yes, Nysa and his father had been close from the time that she was six, going on seven, but even now it still unnerved Draco and made him anxious when they were together.

"If you're not going to be there, I will." Draco rose from his seat. "Uriel, I-"

"No worries, mate," Uriel smiled. "I've got food and a lovely woman's presence to keep me company," he added cordially to Narcissa. "Besides, Lydia, Lucas, and Hermione should be back soon."

"Alright. I'll bring Nysa back with me and then we can all get going."

Draco left without another word and decided to Floo to his parents' home rather than walk. Malfoys had a tradition of going through the family tree with their children. Draco, with a genuine dislike and shame for his family's history (and present) avoided such a lesson with Aiden and Caelum, although his mother thought otherwise. Narcissa had been the one to go through the massive tapestry containing every Malfoy to date. When Nysa's turn came she promptly asked for her grandfather to be the one to go through their family's history with her. Draco, needless to say, was in an uproar about it. It took a solid three weeks, his wife, mother, friends, and his daughter's begging to get him to come around with the _sole condition_ that his mother be present. Today was day four of family history lessons and with how many Malfoys involved it would take another three days at least.

When Draco stepped out of the upstairs Floo the first thing he heard was Nysa's laugh. _Huh. I don't remember these history lessons being that entertaining…_ He drew closer to the room he heard voices come out of and stopped dead in the middle of rounding the corner and walking straight in.

"Tell me another story about daddy," Nysa asked her grandfather.

"Alright," Lucius replied, an unusual joy in his voice. He was sitting in an armchair while Nysa was sitting cross-legged on the floor. "Have I told you about when your father first showed signs of magic?"

"Not yet!"

"Oh, it's quite the embarrassing tale. Your father was very young. Barely over a year, if I recall correctly. Your grandmother saw fit to leave _me_ with the task of feeding him. A terrible mistake on her part. Your father was, and still is, very temperamental. He only liked when his mother or a house elf fed him. Regardless, I tried my hand. That day I learned that he detested mashed pumpkin. The spoon was an inch or so away from his mouth, his little hands went up, and so did the bowl on the highchair's tray and the spoon in my hand. Both items went flying across the kitchen."

"Wow! Daddy was really good with magic. Did I ever make something fly across a room?"

That question wasn't directed at Lucius. It was for Draco who had slowly made his way to the doorway and leaned against it's frame. He had never heard that story before and couldn't help but be intrigued.

"No, but you did you did make all of your toys fly around your head while you were in your crib once," Draco smiled fondly. "Grab your things, Nysa. We're heading out with Lucas and his parents in a bit."

"Oh! Okay!" Nysa excitedly replied. She picked up her belongings in record speed, said goodbye to her grandfather and ran through the door. Lucius sat rooted where he was and grimaced.

"She likes that boy."

"I'm aware."

"She's too young."

"You can't help at what age you like someone. Or who, for that matter," Draco added. "How much longer will these lessons continue?"

"Another week I imagine. Nysa and I tend to become sidetracked," Lucius explained, his son's expression demanding an excuse. "She likes when I tell stories about you."

"Obviously," Draco chuckled. "To this day I have no idea why she's so taken with you."

"Neither do I. Considering she's the only member of your family unit who is, I'll take what I can get."

Draco felt an immediate sneer coming on with a jab such as that. He did well to hold it in, choosing to reply with, "It's you who burned those bridges. You're aware of that, aren't you?"

Lucius nodded. "I am. Although, it certainly helps to have someone relaying all the terrible things you've done."

Draco nearly choked. " _Excuse me?_ Are you implying that _I'm_ the reason my children want nothing to do with you?"

"I'm implying that children should be able to make up their own minds. Something that we _both_ have managed to fail in."

"No," Draco shook his head, leaning off the doorframe in the process. "You are _not_ going to lecture me about how I raise my children after you failed miserably. Besides, children aren't nearly the clueless drones as you think. If so, Nysa wouldn't be so fond of you."

"Maybe you should remember that when you think of the life you have lived."

Draco parted his lips to reply, but promptly realized that he couldn't. Lucius, ever stoic, waited for his answer and it tore at the younger Malfoy that he couldn't come up with a response. What destroyed him most was that his father was fully aware of his dilemma.

"If there's nothing else," Draco cleared his throat, "I'm going."

He turned on his heel without waiting for an answer, but paused just before the doorway when Lucius spoke.

"Aiden's face was sewn into the tapestry."

"It wouldn't update itself because he's not blood," Draco said without turning around. "Mother had a house elf sew him in."

"Ah, of course."

"Is that all?"

"No," Lucius responded curtly. "I have something that needs your signature."

Draco finally faced the room again. His father had gotten up and rummaged through the drawer of a desk behind him, speaking as he did so.

"Do you remember what was said of Lord Jasper Isaac Malfoy?"

Draco's eyes immediately gravitated to the tapestry and locked with the menacing man who was his great-insert-obscene-number grandfather. "He was obsessed with wealth and sought to keep the Malfoys richer than any pureblood family."

"Correct," Lucius nodded. He had a set of parchment in his hands now and urged his son to come to the desk. "Through complicated magic that supersedes any written law, wills included, his wealth can only be passed onto and inherited by the current holder's grandsons."

Draco was looking at the tapestry again. Lord Jasper was so high up on the tree that he gulped. "How much money is it?"

"Let's just say that your children would never have to work a day in their lives. I can pass on the amount to Caelum as he has recently turned seventeen, however, for Aiden, Lord Jasper's spells won't let me. Or for Nysa, for that matter, as she is not a male."

"What will my signature do then?"

"A loophole," Lucius smiled. "This small set of parchment," he pushed over to Draco, "will give Nysa access when she's seventeen. Technically speaking, I'm not giving her the money. Just vault access."

Draco picked up the sheets of parchment. He recognized them now as Gringotts documentation for user access. Yes, as Nysa's father he could sign for her as she was still a few years off from being legal age. But for Aiden it was different.

"What about Aiden?" Draco asked. "I can't sign for him."

"Eighteen in five days, yes," Lucius nodded, surprising Draco more than he would care to admit. "That's why you have to get him to sign it when he returns from Hogwarts. He won't do it if he knows it's from me."

"By that logic, Caelum won't accept the money, period, if he knows it's from you." Draco sighed and stared at the set of parchment that his father had given him. After what felt like a millennia he said, "I'll sign for Nysa."

"And the boys? What will you tell them?"

"I'm not going to lie, but they'll accept it if I ask them to."

"That's all?" Lucius said incredulously. "Just because you ask? Even with my hideous past clouding their judgement?" He added in a scoff.

Draco didn't take offense to his words that time. Instead, he set the parchment down on the desk and reached over for something to write with.

"You'd be surprised what a child will do and believe when their parents ask them to."

It was Lucius' turn to be quiet and he was. He stood as he watched his son sign for Nysa's grant of access and roll the parchment to a neat size.

"I'll ask Aiden to sign it and Caelum to accept the inheritance when they return." Draco went to put back the writing utensil he had picked up, but paused when he realized that it was missing a feathered end.

"What are you doing with a muggle pen?"

Lucius cleared his throat and self-consciously pulled at his collar. "Nysa left it here once. It's...useful."

Draco glanced from his father's face and back to the pen before slipping back to a container where quills sat. He muttered his agreement about the pen before finally leaving the room.

* * *

 _December 18th, 2021_

Draco had been right when he had told Uriel that Hermione would be excited to go to Hogwarts' twentieth anniversary. He had also been honest in saying that he could care less about seeing his peers. It hadn't been a good time for him there. It hadn't been a good time for him _anywhere_. However, even then he had managed to find a bit of light in that dark world and she was getting dressed in a different room because he wasn't allowed to see what she was wearing.

Hermione.

She changed everything. His view on life. His view of himself. His life. Everything Draco had now could be traced back to that one moment in the Great Hall where he saw her from across the room. He sometimes wondered how things would've turned out had he not gone to the masquerade ball that night. Horribly, he concluded.

There was a knock on the bedroom door and with a smile Draco pushed himself off the bed's edge and headed over to it. Without opening he called, "Who is it, may I ask?"

He heard Hermione's laughter on the other side and he could just imagine the _"I really married this idiot?"_ expression on her face.

"The woman who's heading to Hogwarts and meeting Harry and Ginny alone if you don't open this door."

An idle threat at best, but Draco acquiesced. When he opened it he forgot to breathe. His wife was a vision in white. A white feathered mask to cover the eyes, white dress held by thin straps, clinging to her body until it hit the floor. There were even small wings attached…

"You still have the dress."

Hermione glanced down at herself briefly and smiled. She had to make an alteration or two (for she could deny no longer that she wasn't the same body size fifteen to twenty years ago), but the dress worked, and she loved Draco's reaction to it.

"Of course I still have it. I would've been mad to throw away something that was part of leading me to you."

Draco was beet red at this point, and a warm fluttery feeling was in his stomach. "In that case, so would I," he told her and let her see what was on the bed. The top hat that he had worn all those years ago and his mask.

"Damn," Hermione shook her head as Draco went to retrieve his hat. "I thought I was going to be the romantic one tonight."

Draco laughed. He took a moment to slip on his mask and neatly donned his hat before turning back to her. "If it makes you feel any better, you knocked me off my feet first."

"Now or the first time?"

"Both."

Draco presented his arm to Hermione and she stepped over the bedroom door's threshold to link hers with his.

"Do you have the letter?" Hermione asked. He went into the inside pocket of his robes and pulled out a letter that had come for them some two weeks prior. It was a portkey to Hogwarts. All that was needed to activate it was the recitation of a spell and they would end up just outside the school's boundaries.

Hermione cast a quick summoning charm and she caught a set of black robes in her hand. Expensive one at that. Draco could do nothing but admire the woman for donning everything that reminded him of the weekend that he fell for her. His old set of Roman Olivier robes certainly were a delicious cherry on top.

Draco wrapped an arm around her waist and said the spell that would activate the portkey. They were both quickly whisked away from their bedroom and landed, surprisingly easy, just outside of Hogwarts grounds. Although they had gone back to the school several times to see their sons and friends' children play Quidditch, there was something about tonight that made it different. It also helped that the castle and it's grounds were bathed in snow.

"Do we have to go in right away?" Draco asked. They had made it to the main entrance of the school, the music and frivolity of the ball hitting their ears. "If I recall correctly," he added with a mischievous grin, "the most fun we had was outside."

"Uh oh, I know that look," Hermione chuckled. "If you're looking for a repeat of what happened that night you're more than welcome to make it snow in our bedroom."

"I heard 'backyard,' so I'll run with that. Come on."

Hermione's hand was grasped by her husband's and she was being pulled along Hogwarts corridors away from the ball and away from all the guests. Some of them saw, tilting their heads and wondering where they were going. Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Malfoy cared. They ran like teenagers out onto the grounds by the lake, basking in the fact that there was no one out there but them and the fact that it had begun to snow. Hermione let her robes fall, shivered, but then thanked Draco with the upturn of her lips when he cast a Warming Spell around the area.

It wasn't often that Draco got to see his wife just let go. Something in their lives was always happening. Whether verbal derision, lethal curses, and struggles overall, they had endured a lot while together. But the point was that _they were together._

Draco stood at a distance, watching Hermione with her arms outstretched, her head thrown back, and enjoying the snowfall. He did this for several minutes before strolling up to her and clearing his throat.

"Would you like to dance?"

Hermione corrected her posture, and she regarded the man who now looked so much like he did two decades prior.

She shook her head, coyly replying, "I don't dance."

"May I ask why? There's certainly no crowd here," Draco said, turning this way and that, feigning to look for onlookers.

"What if I said that I just don't dance?"

"Then I'd say 'liar' because I've danced with you several times with you over the course of twenty years."

"Well, you've caught me there," Hermione laughed and slipped her hand into her husband's outstretched one.

Draco's free hand gravitated to her waist, pulling her into him, and took the customary dancer's pose. Hermione's fingers had intertwined with his and the little space between them dissolved into nothing as they swayed across the snowy ground to music that wasn't there.

It had all started with a look. It had continued with a dance. It had spilled onto the grounds and they had been falling ever since.

"Who knew that the best moments of my life would have started in disguise?" Draco mused aloud. They had stopped dancing by now, and we're standing in the midst of a snowy backdrop. Hermione had all but disappeared into the scenery, only distinguishable by the pair of arms drenched in black around her body. "All I knew about you was the color of your lips and eyes. And that you looked damn good in that dress."

"Very poetic, Draco, but..." Hermione let her hands slide down his neck and smooth down his collar. "I suppose that you did look quite dapper in your dress robes. And your smile… You had such a beautiful smile."

Draco closed his eyes. Hermione's fingertips had grazed his lips as she spoke and he could've melted if it was possible. When he reopened his eyes he saw the same twenty-two-year-old who had turned his world around.

"Thank you."

Hermione tilted her head slightly as she asked, "For what?"

"For saving me."

At that Hermione smiled gently. She held his face and kissed him, barely pulling back before replying,

"My pleasure."

Hermione and Draco stayed out by the lake for hours. The masquerade ball may have even ended, but it didn't matter. All they needed, and all they had ever wanted, was each other.

* * *

 **Author's note:** Well... We made it to the end. This chapter's title is more than ten just for the story, but also for all of you who have been following this story! I've had the BEST time writing this and I hope that you enjoyed the journey.

To fill in random ends that are in my head: Teddy and Victoire had a girl named Andy :). Yes, Caelum and Giana end up in a relationship. I also imagine that Draco and Lucius relationship remains strained, but tolerable at times.

On the writing side of things, if you liked this story, you may also enjoy a new one I'll be posting soon called "The Calm to Her Storm." Ron is dead and Hermione is hurting terribly while trying to keep it together for her kids. Draco basically picks up the pieces :)

Other works still going on are Need, Sacrifice (a Theo/Fleur spinoff of Need), and Always and Forever.

Feel free to PM me whenever or hit me up on my Tumblr (same penname). I have a Facebook author page as well.

THANK YOU! *hugs and smiles*

-WP


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